Benson's Way
by The Way of the Dream
Summary: AU. Femslash. Crossoverish. Muggleborne Joan Benson is a Homicide Detective who has been through six partners within the last four years. Along comes number seven, pureblood Heir of Slytherin, Alexandra Slytherin. Better summary inside.
1. Prologue

**Summary: Muggleborne Homicide Detective Joan Benson has been with the Dallas Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Homicide Unit for four years. She's used to doing things her way. But even after six partners within the last four years, nothing could've prepared her for hot-blooded pureblood Heir of Slytherin, Alexandra Slytherin.**

**Alexandra, on the other hand, is trying to juggle a demanding boyfriend, new job, and the most challenging thing of all: being partnered with the most difficult detective in the DDMLE.**

**After a brief scare with a terrorist, both women find themselves growing closer. Alex beings to question her relationship with her boyfriend and her feelings for Joan. And Joan, the rock with a furry little problem who refuses to let anyone in, starts to feel her defenses slipping around Alex.**

**With a serial killing rapist on the loose and drug deals gone bad, both women struggle to understand their feelings while trying to keep their nearly flammable physical relationship in check.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way (based Joan is based off Tori). This is an AU story that takes place in America. Please don't flame me because of that. Also, this is FEMSLASH. Don't like? Don't read.**

**Also, the Second Wizarding War never happened, nor did the first. There are going to be character's from the books that make an subtle appearance here and there.**

**-Way of the Dream**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Joan hung up the phone and looked up as Black intercepted the young woman walking through. He flashed his most seductive smile but she dismissed him. Any woman was fair game as far as Black was concerned, whether they acknowledge him or not. She was about to turn away when the woman walked purposefully into the Lieutenant's office.

Joan let out a silent groan. Surely to God this wasn't her new partner. She leaned back in her chair and studied the woman. She was English, pureblood from the looks of. She was beautiful, an air of hidden mystery and confidence to her. Her blazer hung loosely from her shoulders, giving her a slight look. She was tall and built lean. She had piercing emerald green eyes and jet-black hair tied into a low ponytail, and her jaw was sharp and feminine, giving her a slightly stern, but warm look, reminding Joan of someone she couldn't quite place. Joan watched until she walked into the Lieutenant's office, then she slid her eyes to Black.

"Back off, Benson. She's out of your league," Black said from across the room with a bark-like laugh.

Joan gave him a humorless smile. "She looks as though she might have a brain cell or two. I believe she's obviously out of _your_ league, Black."

The other detectives laughed at his expense and Sirius Black took his seat.

"Good one, Benson."

**Joan's PoV:**

Before this story really goes any further, I might as well introduce myself.

I'm Joan Benson, nineteen years old, and I work for the Dallas Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Homicide Unit. We basically investigated murder of magical-folk or those who we believed were murdered by magical folk or Homicides that spill over to the muggle realm or even muggle Homicides that spill into the magical realm. I might sound young, and I am, but as much as the DDMLE hates to admit it, I'm the best there is. I'm the youngest person to date to graduate from the Dallas Magical Law Enforcement Academy. I graduated top of my class in the academy and then proceeded to join the Homicide four years ago.

I've worked Homicide for four years and I've been through, what currently stands at six partners. Two've my partners have died in the line of duty (not my fault). Two've quit the force (obviously they couldn't handle Homicide). One's on permanent disability after being run over by an enchanted car (again, not my fault). And now the most recent statistic is going to be riding the desk the rest of his career due to limp sustained after breaking both of his legs (again, not my fault).

Now, let's begin, shall we?

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><p><strong>Okay, this is my first story. Review, but don't be all that harsh, okay? I'll post when I can.<strong>

**Also, Joan may sound young, but she's mature and extremely skilled at what she does, not to mention, she's of age in the Wizarding Realm. The DDMLE allows people into the Academy as young as fourteen, but no younger. So that's why Joan is as young as she is and doing what she does, as she entered at fourteen, graduated a year later, and then joined Homicide.**

**-Way of the Dream**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. Remember, this is FEMSLASH, which means there's going to be a relationship between two girls. Not your cup of tea, don't read it.**

**Summary is in the Prologue.**

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><p><strong>Chapter ONE: Seven Times the Charm<strong>

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><p>"Benson, my office, now."<p>

Joan glanced up at the voice of Lieutenant Shaklebolt, proceeding to toss the file she had been reading on top of her desk. Ignoring the curious stares of the other detectives, she calmly strode into his office.

"Shut the door and sit down," he ordered, obviously very tired and very worn.

She did and sat quietly in front of him, waiting and observing. His shaved head glistened against the sunlight streaming into his office through the window that was partially covered by the blinds. Joan calmly observed him as he brought up a handkerchief up to forehead and dabbed his forehead. Finally, he looked up from the thick file, locking glances with her. Glancing at the file in her Lieutenant's hand, she realized that the file he had been looking into had been her own.

He sighed. "You've been with me four years, Joan."

"Yes, sir."

He took his battered glasses off and tossed them on top of the file, then got up and walked over to the window, and gazed through the blinds.

"You've had six partners."

Joan sighed, inwardly groaning and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. Not this again.

"Wasn't only a few months ago that we had this talk?" she asked.

"Yes. And at that time, you'd only gone through five partners." He sounded as weary as he looked.

"You can't possibly blame me for Prickhead's two broken legs!" she yelped out, her clipped Oxford accent displaying her irritation.

"Detective Weasley will most likely be on desk duty the rest of his career." Then he sighed. "Prickhead?"

"You didn't have to work with him everyday for the last three months," she said dryly. "He was prick, deserving of the name I have given him."

"If there hadn't been witnesses to verify that you'd jumped out first, and memories to back it up, I'd be the first to think that you'd pushed him out of the damn window."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Give me some more credit than that, Lieutenant. If I had wanted to get rid of him that badly, I would've just hexed him or shot him."

His lips twitched into a faint smile, knowing it was true. He then proceeded to laugh outright when he met her trademark pale-silver eyes.

"Joan, you know I let you get away with more crap that anyone else on this squad. You're my best detective and you know. Hell, everyone in the DDMLE knows it. But this thing with partners, it's got to stop."

"Kingsley, is it my fault they got injured?"

"Injured?" He asked in disbelief, grabbing her file and flipping through the pages. "Two were killed in the line of duty, Benson. One is permanent disability. Two have quit the force. And now Weasley. Desk duty because he'll walk with a limp the rest of his life."

She looked away. She wanted to feel remorse, feel something. She really did. But she hadn't had a relationship with any of them. They didn't like her, and the feeling had been mutual in return. They never clicked, never formed the necessary bonds needed to be partners. They hadn't trusted each other. And that, as a rule of thumb, made for the worst partners.

"You can't blame me for this. I tried to tell you with every one of them that it wasn't working. None of them could get past the face that I'm a woman, and a "Mudblood-Half-Breed" to boot," she sneered out, spitting out the last three words with disgust. None of partners could see past their pureblood bigotry nor could they see past their chauvinistic view of women to really work effectively with her.

"I know you did, and I know they weren't right for you. But I don't always get to make the decisions. You're too much of a maverick, Benson, young as you are. You don't follow rules. I find it amazing that it hasn't caught up with you yet and bit you in the ass."

She glared at him, her pale-grayish silver eyes flashing dangerously. She'd heard this speech a thousand times before. It was always the one that preceded the announcement that she was getting a new partner.

"So what is it this time? Some burnout from DDMLE Central?"

Lieutenant Shaklebolt walked back over to his desk and shuffled through his papers on his desk and put his glasses back on.

"Detective Alexandra Slytherin. From Assault."

"And?"

"And she's being assigned to us."

_"She?"_ Joan sat straight up in her chair. "A woman? You're pairing me up a woman?" She stood, leaning over his desk, slamming her hands on top of it. "Kingsley, have you mad? Paring me with a goddamn _woman_?"

"What's wrong with that? You're a woman."

She glared, sweeping away from his desk and paced across the office. A woman? Some blithering pureblooded bimbo from Assault? Christ!

"She won't last a day," Joan threatened, her eyes flashing angrily, her accent showing. "And you know it!"

"She will last a day, Joan." Shaklebolt stood as well, pointing his finger towards her. "Because if she doesn't, they'll ship you out on foot patrol in Central. Hell, they might even put you behind a desk at CIU. Hell, Benson, even the Chief called me about this!"

Joan turned, intrigued. "The Chief? That's surprising. I didn't even think he knew my name."

"He's got a whole drawer in his filing cabinet dedicated to you, Benson. I mean it, and even Scrimgoure is serious about this, you have to make this work, she has to last, otherwise, you'll be pushing papers from behind the desk the rest of your career." He looked her in the eyes. "Or worse, you're gone for good. You're a good kid, Benson. I don't want to lose you, but I can't protect you forever. In case it's escaped your notice, no one wants to work with you."

Joan shoved her hands of her pockets, her pale-grayish silver eyes piercing his. A woman. Well, this ought be fun.

"Take her under your wing, Joan. Show her the ropes. It might actually do you some good to have a female for a partner. You'll be the only one shooting off testosterone that way."

"Very funny."

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><p><strong>When Joan mention's the Half-Breed thing, she mean's that her partners knew she had a "furry little problem" and hated her because of it. Still don't know what I mean by "furry little problem"? It means she's part werewolf.<strong>

**Anyhow, Chapter One is done. Review, please.**

**-Way of the Dream**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. HP belongs to JK Rowling, and HW belongs to Gerri Hill. This is a femslash story. Not your cup of tea, find a different one.**

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><p><strong>Chapter TWO: Meeting the Newbie<strong>

Alexandra Slytherin adjusted her shirt and her blazer for a fifth time, steeling herself. She walked confidently towards the Sergeant's desk, standing there patiently as he finished typing his report. Finally, he looked up.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Detective Slytherin," Alexandra said calmly. "Lieutenant Shaklebolt is expecting the me."

"Through there." He pointed towards a battered oak door. "Name's on the door."

"Thank you," Alexandra said politely, but he had already gone back to typing, dismissing her.

She walked into the large room, easily sidestepping two uniformed officers who nearly bumped into her. Alexandra glanced around, noticing that most of the desks were empty. A phone rang insistently and she wondered why no one bothered to pick it up. Alexandra's eyes landed on a handsome young man who flashed her a grin. She noticed and nodded and continued on, paying him no heed as her eyes scanning the offices for Lieutenant Shaklebolt's name.

"Need some help?"

Alexandra shook her head, trying to ignore him, continuing to scan the offices. The black-eyed man was standing, his eyes traveling up her body and resting on her breasts.

"Return your eyes to my face or risk having them removed, Detective," Alexandra ordered cooly, still refusing to face the man. When he finally tore his eyes away from her body, she glanced at him and asked, "I'm looking for Lieutenant Shaklebolt."

"Two doors down. Right there," he said, pointing over with one well-manicured hand. "I'm Detective Black. Sirius. Is there anything else I can help such a fine lady like you with?"

Alexandra's emerald eyes flashed dangerously at the question, but she kept her cool.

"No, thank you," she said curtly.

Alexandra swept away from Detective Black. She knocked once, and then entered.

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><p>Joan hung up the phone and looked up as Black intercepted the young woman walking through. He flashed his most seductive smile and shook her head and dismissed him. Any woman was fair game as far as Black was concerned, whether they acknowledge him or not. She was about to turn away when the woman walked purposefully into the Lieutenant's office.<p>

Joan let out a silent groan. Surely to God this wasn't her new partner. She leaned back in her chair and studied the woman. She was English, pureblood from the looks of. She was attractive, a hidden beauty to her. Her blazer hung loosely from her shoulders, giving her a slight look. She was tall and built lean, and quite beautiful. She had piercing emerald green eyes and jet-black hair tied into a low ponytail, and her jaw was sharp and feminine, giving her a slightly stern, but warm look, reminding Joan of someone she couldn't quite place. Joan watched until she walked into the Lieutenant's office, then she slid her eyes to Black.

"Back off, Benson. She's out of your league," Black said from across the room with a bark-like laugh.

Joan gave him a humorless smile. "She looks as though she might have a brain cell or two. I believe she's obviously out of _your_ league, Black."

The other detectives laughed at his expense and Sirius Black took his seat.

"Good one, Benson."

Joan looked up and caught the eyes of Brian Markovsky. He was really her only friend on the squad, if she would even call him that. She often wondered why Malone didn't partner her up with him. They got along well on the few occasion they worked together. He had never treated her as anything less than an equal, regardless of blood status and "furry little problems".

She looked around the room at the other detectives. Chester Watson had come up with her in the Academy. He probably knew her better than anyone here, but he avoided her like the plague. She was the only woman and he was the only Native American half-blood in Homicide. He knew all about discrimination. Apparently he thought it only involved skin color, race, and blood status, not gender.

Then there was Severus Coward, a fifty-one-year-old pureblood who was strictly old school. Mudbloods and women had no place on or in the force, and they certainly had no place amongst the pureblooded Homicide detectives. He took every opportunity to belittle her. But what he and others didn't understand is that she simply didn't care whether they liked her or not. She did her job. End of story.

She finally glanced at Sirius Black, pureblooded heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Even she, grudgingly, had to admit that he was handsome. Scruffy, shoulder-length black hair that was often tied back and twinkling black eyes, he used his looks to get witnesses to talk time and time again. Unfortunately, that was his best quality as a detective in the eyes of Joan. He, most off all, hated and despised Joan with a passion. Not because she was a woman, or because she was Muggleborne, or even because she had a "furry little problem". Black was the only one there that could work with a woman, regardless of her blood status, provided he could get in bed with her. No, he disliked her because she was gay.

She shrugged, then went back to her files. None of it mattered. She had the best conviction rate amongst any of them and was known for never resting until her cases were solved and the victims and their families had closure. Night after night, they would all go home to their lives and their families and she would stay, poring over reports again and again until her eyes ached. But then again, it wasn't like she had anyone to go home to.

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><p>"Lieutenant Shaklebolt?"<p>

"Yes, come on in. You must be Slytherin."

"That is correct, sir."

Kingsley observed the woman who walked into his office and took her seat in front of his desk. He hadn't known what to expect, but he had assumed it would be someone older, more seasoned. Not the young, beautiful black-haired pureblood woman that was sitting across from him. The way she looked, the air of confidence she gave off, he was certain that she would at least last a week with Benson before she came running in fear, asking a new partner. But even with his certainty and her confidence, she still gave him worry. If she wasn't careful or if it turned out she didn't have what it took or if she even faltered for even the slightest amount of time in front of Joan, then Joan Benson would eat her alive. Then, emerald green eyes met his own and his old heart did a flip-flop. She was beautiful, her beauty surrounded by an air of mystery.

He cleared his throat and picked up the files he'd been given yesterday. He'd barely glanced through it.

"I understand that the you requested this move," he started. "Your Lieutenant said that they had you marked for Tactical, Slytherin."

Alexandra gave a shrug. "Tactical doesn't really appeal to me," she said. "For a woman in Tactical, it's really nothing more than desk work."

"A stepping stone towards the FBI," Shaklebolt countered. "We've lost some good men that way.

Alexandra smirked. "Ah, yes. But as you can see, I am a woman."

Kingsley felt his face flush in embarrassment. "Figure of speech."

"Of, course, sir."

"So, Detective Slytherin, you've been with the Assault Division for five years. You have a good record and your Lieutenant spoke highly of you. Why the change?"

"Every Lieutenant I've met comes from Homicide. Not Assault," Alexandra said bluntly.

He smiled. "So, you have higher aspirations than just lowly a detective, huh?"

"I spent two years in East Side, four in Central. I was honored when they requested me for Assault. But after five years of having men come through either area and move on to Homicide, CIU, Tactical, it got tiring. It was the same story time and time again: I would get passed over, my pureblood status and title notwithstanding. Please don't take this the wrong way, but blood status and titles means nothing for a pureblood woman on the force. If you want to move higher up in the chain, you have to do things twice as well as the men," Alexandra leaned back in her chair. "Where better than Homicide?'

Kingsley Shaklebolt grinned wolfishly, then laughed. Well, it looked like he just found Joan Benson with perfect partner. Blood status and titles meant nothing to this one, and she was ambitious, an added plus.

She raised an eyebrow. "Funny?"

"No, no. I'm laughing at myself, not you." He wiped his eyes and patted the thick file on his desk. "I take it that you know next to nothing about your new partner?"

"Not the slightest, sir. But please, I beg of you, don't tell me he's some pureblood bigot who can't stand to work with women."

"Oh, no. Detective Benson. He's a she."

"Benson?" Alexandra's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"Heard of her?"

Alexandra had heard of the stories. Joan Benson was a nutcase, mad by most accounts. _Brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant._

"I've heard the stories of her," she said. "Didn't her partner get killed a few years ago?"

"She's my best detective. Somewhat rouge, very much a maverick. She's got that Alpha tendency to her, so it's hard to keep a tight leash on her. But you can learn a lot from her, provided she lets you."

"Provided she _lets_ me?"

"She likes to work alone. Damn near lives here. Her partners go home, she stays here, cleans up the case. They come back the next day, it's all done. Most men can stand that. She rarely listens to advice from her partners, just relies on her instinct and does her own thing. They either try to follow her or get lost in the chase. Two have been killed in the line of duty. Everyone wanted to blame Benson. But in both instances, both make the wrong choice and decided not to follow her lead and paid the price for it. She came out unscathed and got her man."

"Two have actually quit the force working with Joan. Another was injured when an enchanted car ran over him. Permanent disability. And Weasley, your predecessor, jumped out a two-story window and broke both legs."

"Why in the world would he jump?"

"He was following her," Shaklebolt stated bluntly.

Alexandra's eyebrows raised themselves even higher. "_She_ jumped out of a two-story window?" How mad was this woman?

"It was three-stories, Weasley just tried to take a shortcut."

_"Three stories?"_ Alexandra's echoed in disbelief.

"Yep." Then he grinned wolfishly. "Just like the muggle movies. Jumped to the fire escape, swung over the railing, bounced off the rubbish dumpster and caught the perp."

"Great," she muttered. Definitely a mad woman.

He stood, motioning for her to do the same as they headed towards the door.

Before they left the office, Alexandra asked, "Is Detective Benson a pureblood or a muggleborne?"

Shaklebolt stopped and turned with a raised eyebrow. "Muggleborne. Is that going to be a problem, Detective?"

Alexandra shook her head. "No, it won't. I was curious. Despite my name and my blood status, I have nothing against mugglebornes or half-bloods."

"Good. Now let me introduce you to everyone. A couple of things, but you'll find out soon enough yourself: Coward is an old-school pureblood. You may be a pureblood of high status, but you're a woman, so he won't give you the time of day because of that. And Black, he fancies himself a ladies' man. He _will_ give you the time of day. Every day if you let him. But there's no love lost between them and Benson, only loathing and contempt. In fact, Markovsky is the only one that gets along with Benson. A mild case of hero worship or a mild infatuation or something along those lines." He stopped before he opened the door. "Don't you dare tell either one of them that I said that. Benson'll have my head, boss or not."

"Understood, sir."

He motioned her out of the door, then followed, stopping in the middle of the squad room.

"Listen up, people." Kingsley's deep baritone rang throughout the room.

All heads popped up except Joan's. She continued her phone conversation, ignoring the Lieutenant and the young woman with him.

"Detective Slytherin's been assigned to us from Assault. She'll be replacing Weasley." Murmurs rang throughout the room at the mention of her name. These murmurs were accompanied with winces at the news of whom she would be replacing and have to work with.

He pointed around the room and Alexandra followed his introductions.

"Severus Coward and Chester Watson. Sirius Black and Brian Markovsky over there. Sergeant Holland out front. And Joan Benson. That's our team."

Alexandra nodded at them, murmuring hellos, her eyes finally landing on the profile of the woman who would be her new partner until Alexandra either died in the line of duty or ran screaming for the hills. The woman had yet to look her way.

"Make her feel at home." Then, to Alexandra, "Come on. I'll introduce you personally."

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><p>Joan hung up the phone just as Shaklebolt walked over.<p>

"Benson, this is Detective Slytherin. She's been assigned to you. Try, I beg of you, to play nice," he said with the slightest hint of a threat.

Joan observed the black-haired woman in front of her, with her pressed black slacks and pressed emerald shirt and neat jacket. No evident jewelry, save from the wand holster hidden discretely under and along her right sleeve and the watch on her left wrist and the Slytherin Crest pendant hanging from her neck, tucked in slightly into her shirt. Hesitant emerald green eyes peered back at her, the air of confidence dissipating, then the woman offered her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Detective Benson," she said pleasantly.

"Yeah. Real pleasure," Joan responded dryly. The woman looked like a muggle attorney or an attorney for the Dallas Wizengmont, not a cop. She wondered if Alexandra had ever done fieldwork or just sat behind the desk. "That's yours," she said, pointing to the desk butting up against her own. At least the woman would be nicer to look at than Weasley's smug, dimwitted visage.

Alexandra looked quickly at Lieutenant Shaklebolt, who smiled apologetically and squeezed her shoulder encouragingly.

"You'll be fine," he said quietly, then left them alone.

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><p>Alexandra looked back at the other woman, who had picked up the phone again. Brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant. She hates me already, she thought.<p>

"Sit down."

She stared at the woman, who had her the phone cradled against her shoulder, and took the file that was held out towards her. She sat, her eyes still on the black-haired woman.

"Yeah, this is Benson. I need the lab results." A pause. "You said it would be this morning." Another pause, and Alexandra could feel Joan's anger starting to mount. "It's nine AM, dammit! That _is_ morning!"

Alexandra raised her eyebrows.

"Fine. If you meant thirteen hundred hours, then say thirteen hundred hours." Joan slammed the phone angrily. "Idiots," she growled.

Alexandra watched, her confidence fading even more with each passing second, and apprehension growing in its place. She should've stayed in Assault. She should've taken the job in Tactical.

She motioned to the file that she had handed Alexandra earlier. "Teenage girl, a half-blood from blood work, found in a rubbish dumpster on the muggle half of East Side. Jane Doe. Hooker most likely. Consensus is a muggle john killed her. But I don't think so. The pads of her fingertips were calloused, signaling constant wandwork."

"Was there a wand found near the body?"

"Not one that we could find. I'm thinking that the perp took it."

"If a muggle john killed her, why would he go through all the trouble of disposing the body and taking the wand? Why not just leave them?"

Joan looked slightly startled. That was her theory as well.

"Maybe if he left her at the scene, there would be too much evidence that would point him to him," Joan said.

"Motels, both muggle and magical, that rent by the hour? Come on. You could get hundreds of prints, with matches to everything and nothing. Safest place for a perp."

Joan nodded her agreement.

"Okay. Her pimp?"

"That would be logical, but we can't find anyone who recognizes her, both in the magical and muggle halves of East Side."

"Then maybe she's not from East Dallas," Alexandra said. "Downtown, perhaps?"

"Perhaps. There's a small area on the West End and one in Little Mexico. That's about it."

"She was black and came from a magical family that probably lived in Muggle halves and was at least was gifted enough and had enough money to be in possession of a wand. I doubt that she worked Little Mexico," Alexandra said.

Joan leaned back in her chair once more and studied the other woman.

"You a pureblood?"

Alexandra frowned, not knowing where the conversation was going and a little confused by the sudden change in subject. "Yes."

"High status, I presume?" She looked young for one of high status.

"Yes."

"Okay, given that your name is Slytherin and that you're a pureblood of high standing and given the pendent you wear around your neck, there is one conclusion that I can draw: you're the actual Heir of Slytherin." The Heir of Slytherin was the second highest position within the Slytherin family, the bearer of the title being the one who would take over once the current Head died. It was the only position amongst Ancient and Noble pureblood houses not limited to gender, and could only be received by being borne into the family. Unlike the firstborne children of other pureblood houses, the title of Heir wasn't guaranteed to the firstborne. You had to be chosen by the current head, and sometimes that took years. The Slytherin family was known for having gone two generations without an Heir. The power that the position's chosen held knew no bounds. Joan wondered why this woman, if she held the title of the Heir, would bother to work here, in Homicide of all places.

Alexandra shifted slightly, obviously caught off guard by the observation. She glanced around the squad room to make sure that they weren't going to be overheard. "Your conclusion holds true," she murmured quietly.

Joan merely sighed, and decided to change topics. "How long have you been a detective?"

"Five years. Why?"

"You barely look twenty," Joan said bluntly.

"Twenty-two, but does it matter?"

"Of course it matters. No one takes a woman seriously, especially a pureblood that looks like she's fresh out of college. In case you haven't noticed, blood status and titles mean nothing to a killer out on the streets."

"Why, thank you, Detective. I knew there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere. I've noticed that I gain nothing from my blood status or my titles," Alexandra said sarcastically.

Joan Benson stood and grabbed her coffee cup and walked away. Alexandra stared after her. She was taller than Alexandra, but only by few inches, four at the most. Shaggy, messy black hair, pale, grayish-silver eyes. She wouldn't call Joan boyish; she was too attractive for that. Definitely moody. Why the sudden change? Had she answered one of Joan's questions wrong?

"Don't worry about her, honey. She's just being her usual bitchy self," Sirius Black told her as he walked over.

"Excuse me?"

"Benson," he explained.

"No. _Honey? _Were you talking to me?"

Black flashed her his trademark charming smile and sat on the corner of her desk. He kept his distance from Benson's desk, though. Even he wasn't brave enough to go anywhere near Joan Benson's desk.

"Sorry. No offense." He held his hand out to her. "Sirius Black, heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, at your service," he said.

She took his head, then dropped it quickly as he squeezed.

"No offense, Sirius, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me _honey_. I'll try to refrain from calling your names as well."

He laughed and she smiled at him. She had to admit, he was quite attractive.

"So, you're stuck with Benson. Sorry about that. I wish you the best of luck."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she said.

"Well, if you need anything…_anything_ at all, just let me know." He flashed another smile.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

Joan came back with two steaming cups, one with coffee and one with tea, and set the one with tea on Alexandra's desk. She flicked her eyes towards Black.

"Don't you have work to do, Black?" Joan growled out.

"Just introducing myself, Benson. Don't get excited." He held his hands up in a mock-placating manner.

"Trust me," she sneered out. "You don't excite me."

He laughed again, then pulled himself off Alexandra's desk, ignoring Joan. "So, Alexandra, would you like to get dinner some night? I could fill you in on all the local gossip," he offered, flashing a seductive smile.

"No, thank you I'm involved with someone. I doubt he'd appreciate that," she said.

He shrugged. "You never know. Offer is always open," he said, flashing her a wink and walking away.

* * *

><p>"Stay away from him," Joan said. "He's a womanizing jerk."<p>

Alexandra smiled. Yes, she agreed.

"Does someone here like you?" she asked.

"No." Joan's answer was curt.

"Why?"

"I don't bullshit, I don't play games. I do my job. End of story."

"That doesn't mean that you can't be friends with the people that you work with," Alexandra protested.

"Friends? With those guys?" Joan leaned forward. "Coward hates me because I'm a woman and because I'm a muggleborne. He could care less about my job performance. I'm just a woman. Watson, his partner, follows his lead, even though Coward barely tolerates him because he's Native American and a half-blood. Markovsky is the only one the here other than the Lieutenant that shows the slightest consideration for me and because of that, he has to listen to all the ridicule from the others, especially from Black, his partner."

"That all can't be just because you're a muggleborne woman."

"No, it's not just because I'm a woman. Because I'm a woman and a muggleborne and because I'm better at the job than they are."

"Oh. Well, it's good to know you're not the slightest bit conceited," Alexandra said with a smile.

"Why are you here?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Earlier, you said that you're the Heir of Slytherin. You hold such a high standing within the magical society. Why work here? Were you asked or did you volunteer?"

"I requested this transfer months ago. I don't see what my being the Heir has to do with anything. My name and my title and my position mean nothing here. I refuse to have anything handed to me because of such things. If I'm going to make a name for myself, it's because I earned through hard work."

Joan nodded and sipped from her coffee. "So, you have a boyfriend? Or is it an arranged thing?"

"Boyfriend. Despite being a pureblood of high status, arranged marriage was out of the question. Even with my stepmother's demands that I be pushed into an arranged marriage, my father refused to push me into anything that I refused to go along with, and I refuse to marry a man whose only desire is the political power my family possesses. Why do you ask?"

Joan shrugged. "It'll make it easier on you. Black will only hit on you once every other day. Coward, being the old-fashioned pureblood he is, will at least think that there's hope you'll get married off and pregnant and out of his territory."

Alexandra frowned. "You paint a very dismal picture of this office, Benson. I've worked around men my whole career. I've never had a problem with them. I doubt I will here, either. I do a good job.

Joan shrugged again. She was probably right. Alexandra was straight and attractive. She was no true threat to them. Unlike herself.

"I'm headed out to Central and show our girl's picture around. Maybe she's been hauled in before on either side. Want to come?"

"As opposed to staying here and being leered at by Black? I'm going with you."

* * *

><p><strong>Alex may be the Heir of Slytherin, but as you can tell, she's very tolerant. And unlike most purebloods, she feels the need to work instead of expecting everything on a silver plater.<strong>

**Chapter Two: Done. Review, please.**

**-The Way of the Dream**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. HP is JK Rowling's baby and Hunter's Way is Gerri Hill's. I can only claim ownership of Joan and Alex. Has Femslash. Not your cup of tea? Find another one.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter THREE: A Glimpse Into the Life of Det. Slytherin Outside of Work<strong>

It was after seven when Alexandra Apparated into her flat and collapsed onto her sofa. It had been a day a mental trials that seemed to take a physical toll on her body and she was exhausted. She glanced over towards the phone. Three messages. Kicking off her shoes, she stretched out, hitting the voicemail as she relaxed on the couch.

_"Hey, love, it's me. I wanted to see if you were up for dinner. Can't wait to hear about your first day. Call when you get in."_

She nodded, waiting for the beep.

_"It's me. So how'd it go? If you can sneak away from Blaise for one night, why don't we get dinner? It's been a while."_

She nodded again, mentally taking note to call Daphne later.

_"Sorry, Alexandra, can't do dinner tonight after all. I've got a late meeting at the Ministry. I'll call you when I'm done. Maybe I can Apparate by."_

She shook her head. She was too tired, too worn. She was actually thankful that Blaise had a meeting at the Ministry. She pulled herself off the couch, wandlessly and wordlessly vanishing her clothes as she headed towards the bathroom. A long, hot shower helped revive her somewhat. Unfortunately, her refrigerator couldn't miraculously supply dinner. Sorting through the frozen meals in her freezer, she grabbed one and popped into the microwave. Her refrigerator did, however, contain a bottle of Merlot.

She opened the bottle and poured herself a glass. She took the glass and headed towards the living room, settling into the recliner.

"Ahh," she murmured as she put her feet up. She grabbed the phone, and with her thumb, punched out Daphne's number.

* * *

><p>"It's me," she said when her best friend answered.<p>

_"Well, hello, Lady Detective. How'd it go?"_

Alexandra smiled wryly and sipped her wine.

"I survived…barely," she said. "I fear I'm dangerously close to the mad house at St. Mungo's, but I survived."

_"That bad, huh?"_

"I've never in my life seen so many egos and that much testosterone in one place outside of a Pureblood function."

Daphne laughed. _"I told you to stay put at Assault. The pureblood boys of Homicide don't mess around with little girls, no matter her blood status."_

"My partner's a woman," Alexandra said dryly.

_"You're kidding? They lump you two purebloods together so you don't get in the way?"_

"She's muggleborne," Alexandra said, knowing her friend had no problems with blood status. "You may have heard of her. Joan Benson."

_"Merlin! She's the nut that jumped out the three-story building. We're defending the guy she nabbed!"_ Daphne yelped out.

"Yes, that's her. So, you have the case?"

_"No, Cormic McLaggen does. It's a dead end though, he's going to plead out."_

"She's supposedly very good at her job," Alexandra said. "She doesn't exactly fare well with partners, though. I'm not sure we're going to get along."

_"Oh, you'll do fine. Everyone likes you, and it's just not just because of _who_ you are."_

Alexandra smiled. "Yes. But not everyone likes her. It's going to be like pulling a dragon's teeth or shaving a chimera, difficult and risky. She's moody as hell and resents that I'm a pureblood and that I'm being assigned to her."

_"I'm sure you'll win her over. Where's Blaise?"_

"Meeting at the Ministry, thankfully. I'm too tired company, let alone for dinner, period."

_"So how are things going with the two of you?"_

"Fine."

_"Fine? You've been seeing him for two years. When are you going to talk marriage?"_

"Marriage?" Alexandra echoed in disbelief. "Purebloods we may be, but I doubt we're at that stage, Daphne." In fact, she knew she wasn't. Blaise had hinted that they move in together, but she had balked. She liked her privacy, her time alone. He didn't understand, but he was kind enough not to push. Not much, anyway.

_"He's a good guy, Alexandra. Pureblood or not, you could do a lot worse."_

"Yes, I know. He's a sweetheart. I'm just not ready to get married."

_"You think it'll interfere with your career?"_

"Well, there's that," she said. "He hates it now when I'm out working nights. Can you imagine if we were married?"

_"And working Homicide, you'll be working nights more often,"_ Daphne said.

"Most likely. So, how are you doing? Still seeing Draco?" Alexandra asked, relieved to change the subject.

_"Yes. I wish I could say I'm in love with him, but I'm not. He's so damn handsome, and he's the Heir of the House of Malfoy and a pureblood. I keep thinking I'll fall for him, but…"_ she trailed off with a laugh.

Alexandra shook her head in exasperation. Daphne was smart, but she had always been swayed by a pretty face back in school. Even now, though they were long out of school, she was still swayed by the pretty face, blood status notwithstanding. In fact, in Alexandra's eyes, Daphne was lucky. Blaise was handsome and Daphne was…well, she loved him. Was Alexandra in love with him? Maybe. At least she thought she should be.

They really had a great relationship. They rarely argued. When they did, it was usually over cases. He was a defense attorney, both for the muggle realm and magical realm. Thankfully, they had never worked the same cases.

* * *

><p>She was asleep on the couch when Blaise called later that evening. He wanted to come over.<p>

"Blaise, I'm exhausted. Could we meet up tomorrow?" she had asked tiredly.

_"Of course. How'd it go today?"_

"It went…fine," she said. "It'll be different, that's one thing I'm certain of," she said around a yawn. "I'm sorry," she murmured her apology.

_"That's okay. Go back to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."_

She wanted to continue lying on that couch, but she forced herself to get up and get into bed.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Look the previous chapters. They still apply. I only own Joan and Alexandra (and Roxy) Also, this is femslash, meaning love between two women. Don't like? Find something else to read.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter FOUR: Challenging the Stubborn Dragon<strong>

Alexandra felt refreshed when her alarm went off at five thirty. She showered quickly, deciding to grab coffee on her way to work. She wanted to be early. For some reason, she felt the need to beat Joan Benson to work.

It was a sunny morning and unseasonably warm for a Dallas winter. Of course, that was relative. March in Dallas either hinted at an early summer or a lingering winter. Spring lasted a few short weeks, and month at most.

She had Apparated to her car early enough to beat any curious muggles that may have wandered the streets, and was on the road early enough to beat any traffic. She stopped by a coffee house that catered to both magical and muggle populace on the corner of Commerce and Oakland. She eyed the pastries, before deciding on an English croissant. Bacon and cheese filled, and still better than a pastry, she reasoned. She ate while she drove the two blocks to the precinct. She was early. Only a few officers were in from what she could see by the cars in the parking lot.

Her good mood vanished when she saw Joan Benson sitting at her desk; phone already tucked into her shoulder. The same as it was when she had left last evening. Damn, did that woman ever go home?

* * *

><p>"Morning," she said.<p>

"Yeah, same to you," Joan said distractedly as glanced up briefly, then away, barely acknowledging Alexandra. "It's Benson. I want to go over the reports. I'll be down in half an hour." A pause. "Yes, I know what time it is. Do you?" She hung up, pinching the bridge of her nose, her glasses partially sliding down her nose. "Idiots."

"Well, off to another fine start," Alexandra muttered. She pulled out her chair and sat looking at her new partner, wondering what was on the agenda today. Lab reports, obviously. She'd left after five and they still had yet to receive them. Apparently, Joan had gotten her hands on them somehow.

"Seems out girl was busy before she died. Four types of semen," Joan said.

"When did you get the report?"

"Last night," she said absently. "You want to stay here and settle in or do you want to come?"

Alexandra waited until Joan Benson looked up, obviously waiting for an answer.

"Are you always this difficult to work with?"

"Yes." It was a curt response.

"No wonder Weasley jumped. He was probably wishing that he had jumped from the three instead of the two."

"Very funny. Are you coming?"

"Yes, Benson, I'm coming. Christ, did you even go home?"

"No." Again, another curt response.

"Did you sleep?"

Joan turned and faced Alexandra.

"Whether or not I slept and where is none of your business." She turned and left without a word, leaving Alexandra standing there, staring after her.

"Lovely. I've gone and landed myself in hell."

* * *

><p>The trip to the lab was made in tense silence and Alexandra kept her hands locked together in her lap, staring straight ahead as they made their way, creeping along in traffic. <em>Couldn't wait a half-hour and let the traffic die, no. Had leave right then. Had to have us stuck together in this goddamn car.<em>

"So, do your friends call you Alex?"

"Excuse me?" It was the first words they had spoken since they left the squad room.

"Alex? Do they call you that?"

"Not if they expect me to answer them," Alexandra answered.

Joan nodded. "Alex it is, then."

"No. I detest that name," Alex protested.

"Sorry. Alexandra's just too…formal of a name. Pureblood you may be, but I'm not. So the formality thing is out."

"Formal? It's my name."

"I like Alex better," Joan said.

"Well, I don't. I forbid you to call me Alex."

"Forbid? You can't be serious?" Joan laughed incredulously. "Pureblood, you can't really forbid me to do anything except die."

_I hate her._

* * *

><p>It seemed like hours late before they walked into the lab. Alexandra noticed that no one greeted them. In fact, they avoided them. <em>Great. I'm partnered with a psycho whom no one can stand.<em> She thought it was amazing that Benson got any cooperation at all in the department given her reputation.

"Granger. Good morning," Joan said, walking up to an older woman and touching hands with her briefly. "This is Alex Slytherin, my new partner," she said, motioning to Alexandra.

"It's Alexandra," she said through clenched teeth as she shook the Lab Head's hand.

"Slytherin, you say?" Granger asked with a raised eyebrow. "Heir?"

She didn't announce it loudly, but she announced it with enough volume to make Alexandra nervous. "Yes, to both questions," Alexandra responded quietly.

Granger shrugged. "Well, then, pleasure to meet you Detective Slytherin. I'm Doctor Hermione Granger, muggleborne." She took a stick of Drooble's Best Blowing Bubble Gum from her lab coat and folded it into fourths before sticking it into her mouth. "My staff tells me that you've been badgering them, Benson. What's the problem?"

"No problem. Just six hours late on lab reports," she said with a shrug. "I got impatient."

Hermione laughed. "You get impatient when we're and hour late. I wouldn't dare imagine your attitude after six." She walked down the hall and they followed. "Your Jane Doe was a popular gal in both halves, Detective. I'm guessing she's sixteen, seventeen, maybe even eighteen at the most. Hard to tell given her fingers. Life on the streets ages you quickly."

"Her street name was Ellis," Joan said. "She's fairly new on the streets, they tell me. That's why no one really recognized her on either side."

Alexandra stared, wondering how in the world Joan had gotten this information. And why the hell hadn't she told her.

"I'm going to wager a guess that your vic's place of origin is New Orleans," Dr. Granger said. "She has a tattoo on her right arm. Mardi Gras type of thing. We traced it to being some sort of gang symbol down there."

"Magical or muggle?"

"Muggle. Not surprising given her blood status. Half-blood status gives her an earlier and better access to both sides of the world than a pureblood or muggleborne would have, seeing as how one of the parents has to be muggle with information on the muggle half. Anyhow, Sara's running a report for you."

"Thanks. Now, what about the semen?"

Dr. Granger held the door open to her office and they preceded her, each taking a seat in front of her desk.

"Four types. You think they'd be smart enough to use condoms." She flipped open the file on her desk. "Two were from semen in the rectum."

"Realm?" Joan asked.

"One was a veela who, from what we can tell, was bonded, so we didn't get any sperm. The other was a muggle."

"Signs of violence?"

"The only sign of violence was the American flag that your perp planted on the victim. Red eyes, pale skin despite ethnicity, and blue lips. All consistent with strangulation. No recent bruises. There were two old fractures: one to the tibia and wrist. That's it."

"Can you tell how old the fractures were, and how they were healed?"

"I'd estimate two to two and a half years old. Both healed by muggle means."

Joan sighed. "You run the fluids through the system? No DNA matches?"

"Like I said earlier, one was a bonded veela. We weren't going to get any DNA out of that sample. The other one didn't have any matches in any of the systems we ran it through," Dr. Granger explained.

"Drugs?"

"Clean. You said she was new to the street. Maybe your vic didn't have time to get a taste."

"You said that both fractures were healed by muggle means. Anything unique?"

"Nothing. Just regular bone setting. Bone setting isn't a unique art, Detective. It's not like the sutures of a wound. There's signature when it comes to suturing, not to bone setting. It can't really be traced."

Joan sighed in exasperation, running her fingers through her shaggy black locks. "There's not much to go on, Doc."

"No. There's not."

Alexandra sat and listened to their exchange, still seething because Joan had been working last night while she was sleeping peacefully in bed.

Joan's cell phone interrupted her thoughts. She watched as Joan snatched it off the clip on her jeans.

"Benson."

_"Got another hooker. Dumpster over in Central, border of both halves."_

Alexandra saw the frown, the tightening of lips, and the darkening of those pale-grayish silver eyes into a storm grey behind her glasses.

"Great. Thanks, Holland." Joan looked briefly at Alexandra, then folded her snapped her cell phone shut. "Got another body, Granger." She stood, then turned back. "I'm looking for a match to the fluids we found."

* * *

><p>Alexandra hurried after Joan as she nearly ran down the hallway. She hated not knowing what the hell was going on. When they were on the road again, Alexandra turned to her.<p>

"What's up?"

"They found another body."

"Yes. I heard. Thank you. But I wanted to know what's going on," Alexandra pressed.

Joan shrugged. "You know as much as I do."

"Bullocks! How do you know our Jane Doe's street name was Ellis?" she asked angrily.

"I asked."

"Asked who?" Alexandra patients was starting to thin.

"Hookers."

"Goddamn it, Benson!" Alexandra exploded. "I'm supposed to be your partner. Not some puppy dog that follows you around in daylight hours then goes home! If you were going out last night, why didn't you tell me? I could've gone with you."

"You'd already put in nine hours, _Lady_ Detective. You're a pureblood. You were tired. You have a boyfriend waiting. You have a life outside of work. There was no reason for you to hang around back alleys in the realms at midnight asking about a dead hooker."

"What the hell does my being a pureblood and having a boyfriend have to do with anything? If you're working, I should be working. You could have, at the very least, asked me!" Alexandra said angrily.

"I work odd hours. I doubt you'd be able to keep up," Joan said lightly.

"Try me," Alexandra challenged. "You're not going to send me screaming for the hills, Benson. So unless you shoot me or hex me or push me out of a three-story building, I'm going to be here. I _want_ to be here," she said firmly. _God did I just say that?_

"Why do you think I'm going to send you screaming for the hills?" Joan sounded truly curious.

Alexandra just stared at her. "You've hardly been friendly. Hell, you've hardly been tolerable. You don't share shit with me. You go off on your own like one of those muggle cowboys. Do you even know what the word _partner_ means?"

They had pulled up to a stoplight. Joan reached into her jacket and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, removing the cap of the pen with her teeth and spit it out. Glancing up to make sure the light was still red, she wrote the word, **"Partner"**, on the paper. Glancing up again just in time to see the light turn green, she floored it. Without taking her eyes off the highway, she held the piece of paper to Alexandra's gaze.

"You wanted to know, so here's your answer."

Alexandra just gaped. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

Joan tossed the paper in the back seat. "Look, this is my case. I've been on my own for three months since Weasley…fell." She nearly laughed. She could still picture him dangling from the railing, screaming that, since he was a pureblood, and a man, she had to wait. It was a memory that amused her so much, that she had stored within her Pensive on her boat.

"Yes, well this is our case now and why the hell are you smiling?"

"Sorry. Thinking about Weasley," Joan said.

"He fell out a two-story window. I fail to see what amuses you."

"He was thirty pounds overweight. I told him to take the stairs," she said. "But he refused to let me win. Couldn't catch the guy without him."

"So he jumped?"

"Jumped? No, he decided to try and take a shortcut and ended up trying to hang himself from the fire escape," Joan said, her lips twitching at the memory. "He was up there to do chin ups, trying to climb back up."

Alexandra knew of the Weasley Family, but she didn't know of the Weasley that Joan was describing, yet the visual that Joan had created had gotten Alexandra to crack a smile.

"So, where are we going?"

"Central. Border to both realms. Why don't you call Holland and ask for the address?"

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, they were in the downtown warehouse district that bordered the realms. Alexandra recognized one of the uniformed officers from her days at Central. Dean Thomas. A pureblood of a low family, he'd asked her out nearly twice a week and attempted to court her during her first year of working at Central.<p>

"Hello, Dean. How's it going?"

"Alexandra? What are you doing here? I thought you worked with Assault."

"I'm with Homicide how. Did you find her?"

"No. Someone called it in. Got a woman who can identify her," he said, pointing out an elderly woman talking to another uniformed officer.

"Thank you, Dean."

Joan watched the exchange silently, noting the warm, friendly smile that Alexandra gave Thomas. Well, they definitely had different methods. She nodded as Alexandra headed off. She went the opposite direction, towards the dumpster.

* * *

><p>"What do we have?" she asked as she peered inside.<p>

"What you see is what you get, Benson."

Joan glanced up quickly, then took a step forward. "I see what I see, but that wasn't what I was asking. I asked what you had," she said quietly, her piercing stare pinning him in place.

"Working girl, most likely. Teenager. Dumped here last night, most likely. The guy in the bookstore found her when he was taking out the rubbish."

"Why do you think she was dumped last night?"

He shrugged.

"Which Medical Examiner is here from the Morgue?"

"Puckett."

"Where is she?"

"Back in the van," he said.

Joan walked over to the van and knocked on the outside panel. The back door swung open and out stepped Roxy Puckett. Their eyes met and there was a tense, uncomfortable silence. There was always an uncomfortable silence with the two of them, ever since the one night they'd spent together nearly ten months ago. Joan shoved her hands in her pockets and waited for Roxy to speak.

"Figured this was your case, Benson. Hermione said you'd been raising hell in the lab yesterday over the other one."

Joan shrugged and nodded. "How are you?"

"Great. You?"

"Wonderful," Joan said dryly. "What do you have?"

"Appears to be the same MO. The bruising I can see is the bruising around the neck. We'll have to wait till I open her up back at the morgue, but I'm thinking you've got a serial."

"Yeah. Brilliant. Wand or no wand?"

Roxy rolled her eyes. "How'd I know you'd ask that? Lightly calloused fingers, showing recent ownership of a wand. I'm guessing she just bought it."

"One found?"

"None yet."

"Great," Joan growled out.

Roxy motioned with her head to Alexandra as she walked towards them. "Who's your partner?"

Joan waited just a second until Alexandra joined them. "Alex Slytherin. Roxy Puckett," she said motioning to the respective person.

"Slytherin?" Roxy asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, that one," Joan responded before Alexandra could say anything.

"Well, then, pleasure to meet you," Roxy said extending her hand.

"It's Alexandra," she said, shaking hands with the ME. "Same as before?"

"Most likely."

Alexandra nodded, then looked to Joan. "Mrs. Dan says the victim's name is Diamond. She says she comes into the bakery on the muggle half every morning when they open. Seven," she said in response to Joan's raised eyebrows. "She doesn't know where she lives. She walks north when she leaves."

"Did we get blood status?" Joan asked.

"Mrs. Dan believes her to be muggleborne witch. Says she's seen a muggle cell phone along with a wand holster on Diamond."

"Where's the phone?"

"Uniformed officers haven't found one in the area. Thinking the perp tossed it," Alexandra said.

Joan nodded. They had nothing. Well, except for the fact that the girl wasn't dumped last night. Joan had seen her a midnight. She turned and walked away without another word.

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><p><strong>Review, please.<strong>

**-The Way of the Dream**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimers: Nothing has changed. They all still apply. I only own Joan and Alexandra, and this is still a FEMSLASH. Don't like? Find another story.**

**AN: I know this is a short chapter, but I hit writer's block when I was writing this one.**

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><p><strong>Chapter FIVE: A Glimpse into the Life of Det. Benson Outside of Work<strong>

Joan drove through the city, all four windows of her Hummer down. The air was cool. Once the sun set, the spring-like temperatures disappeared. She didn't care. She was too damn tired. She bypassed her small flat in South Dallas and headed to Fort Worth. She needed to rest. She had only slept a few hours' sleep each night for the past week. With the full moon approaching, she needed all the sleep she could get within reason. Taking the Loop, she headed west, out of town, and towards Phoenix Mountain Lake. She hadn't been to her boat in three weeks, since the first murder. But tonight, she needed the peace and quite and solitude that the lake offered.

* * *

><p>The marina was deserted by the time she got there. She punched in her code and slipped past the gate, her footsteps as quite as the that water swayed quietly around the piers. She walked to the end, where her boat was docked, pausing to stare up at the glittering stars and silver moon that seemed to reflect her eyes.<p>

Unlatching her wand from its holster in her arm, she murmured, _"Lumos."_

She grabbed a bottle of butterbeer, downing half of it, before heading to the tiny shower. She stood under the slow stream of cold water and closed her eyes, trying to relax.

* * *

><p>Later, she pulled a law chair out on the deck and sat, watching the stars overhead and listened to the water splashing against her boat. Her enhanced hearing caught the chirping of crickets on the land around the lake. She reached for the bottle of beer, bringing it to her lips and taking a drink.<p>

Two dead girls, both with knowledge of the magical realm and both, at some point before their deaths, had wands. No clues. No wands found. She tipped her head back, gazing at the moon overhead. There were probably going to be more dead girls. Hell of way for her new partner to get her feet soaked.

She lifted one corner of her mouth in a slight smile. Alexandra Slytherin, the Heir of Slytherin herself. Well, she was definitely the most beautiful partner she'd ever had. One of the most odd, too. The girl wasn't like other purebloods. She was humble and kind, and seemed to tolerate, and even liked, muggleborne-magical folk. Her title seemed to mean nothing to her, if anything, the mention of the title seemed to make her nervous. And after two days, Joan knew she wasn't going to run her off. Probably just as well. She'd had a lot worse. At least a woman, a pureblood no less, was at least willing to follow her lead and not buck her at every turn.

Again, Joan grinned. Well, it wasn't like she given her a choice. She did, however, suspect that Lady Alexandra Slytherin had a temper. That could be fun.

* * *

><p>"I'm just tired, Blaise. I'm sorry," Alexandra murmured as she rolled on to her side, facing away from him. She just didn't have the energy to make love. She'd barely made it through dinner.<p>

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's just that we haven't seen much of each other this week. I miss you."

"Me, too. We'll have the weekend, Blaise."

She felt him nod, and she closed her eyes. Morpheus claimed her immediately.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, I'm sorry that it's so short. Just think of it as nothing more than an interlude or something along those line. If you're reading and haven't lost interest in this story, leave a review to let me know.<strong>

**-The Way of the Dream**


	7. Chapter 6

**Sorry about not updating. School is being killer. Anyway, here's the next chapter of Benson's Way. Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. Each belong to their respective owners, J.K. Rowling and Gerri Hill. Joan and Alex are mine. This story contains femslash, meaning romance between females. Not your cup of tea? Find another one.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter SIX: The Story of Joan Benson's Painful Past<strong>

Joan sipped her coffee and watched as Alex made her way through the squad room. Pressed black pants today, she noted. Matching blazer. It made her emerald eyes stand out just that much more.

"Exactly what time do you get to work?" Alexandra asked. She hadn't seen Joan's car in the lot, and wondered if she had just Apparated. She tossed her purse on her desk and grabbed a cup of coffee.

"Early."

"It's seven-thirty," she said as she walked away.

"Earlier than that," Joan muttered.

"Did you drive in this morning?"

"No."

For some reason, Alexandra felt as though that was the end of her questioning of Joan's arrival methods, so she dropped the question as she came back. She pulled out her chair, grimacing at the taste of the coffee. She should've stopped on the way, or at least picked the tea.

"Don't pick the tea here. Stay with the coffee. It's safer that way," Joan said, as if reading Alexandra's thoughts.

"Thanks for the advice." Alexandra glanced at her partner. Joan had shadows under her eyes. "Please tell me you didn't drive around the streets last night," she said, concern evident in her voice.

"No. I was tired," Joan said. It wasn't a lie. With the full moon drawing near, Joan was losing energy.

She snatched up the phone. "It's Benson. Granger in yet?" She stared at Alex, then nodded. "We'll be over at nine thirty."

"They already have the lab results?"

"They will."

"Are you thinking serial?" Alexandra tried to keep the worry out of her voice.

"Yes. The girl, Diamond, I spoke with her the night she died," Joan said quietly.

"You what?"

"I saw her on the street. It was nearly one. I showed her out Jane Doe. She knew her as Ellis."

"Why are you now just sharing this?" Alexandra demanded angrily.

"What difference does it make?" Joan asked indifferently.

Alexandra slammed her fist on her desk, cracking it slightly due to the force of the blow. Lights flickered around them and a breeze started up around them as Alexandra's magic started to release itself, alarming Joan slightly.

"Hey, calm down," Joan said.

"We are _partners_," she hissed out slowly, stressing the word partner. "I know you said that you know what the definition of that word is Benson, but I really doubt that you do. You can't just drop information like that in a casual conversation. They think she was dumped during the night. You knew all along that wasn't true," she accused. "I spent half the day trying to find out who she was with _before_ midnight!"

"I'm certain the ME will give a time of death. And it'll be after one."

Alexandra glared at Joan, her emerald green eyes flashing dangerously.

"Morning, ladies."

Joan turned to Shaklebolt, away from the angry emerald green eyes of her partner.

"Morning, Lieutenant."

Alexandra shoved her chair away, walking purposefully behind Lieutenant Shaklebolt, following him into his office.

* * *

><p>"Slytherin? What's up?" he asked as he hung up his coat.<p>

"She's impossible," Alexandra said, slamming the door behind her. The glass cracked ever so slightly, but it escaped her notice as she continued to rant. "Absolutely, bloody, fucking impossible!"

"Ah. Third day. You've done well. To tell you the truth, though, I wasn't really expecting you in here for another four days, but you've at least made it day three," he said. "Sit. What's the problem?"

"What's the problem?" she echoed in disbelief. "The problem is that she's insane. Mad. Psychotic, even!" she ranted.

He nodded.

"She keeps things from me, she goes out at all hours of the night, hell, she barely even speaks to me."

He nodded again.

"She's impossible to work with. No wonder Weasley jumped. I'd have jumped, too."

Shaklebolt laughed, then stifled it almost immediately as furious emerald green eyes shot his way.

"Please tell me it'll get better," Alexandra said quietly, calming herself slightly. "It's almost as if she doesn't want anyone to like her, Lieutenant. It's as if she goes out her way to antagonize people. One moment she's nice, the next a total raving bitch. It's like we almost connect, then she goes off and does something to intentionally piss me off!" Her anger was returning.

"Calm down, Slytherin."

"I am calm!"

He sighed. "Look, I told you she was…difficult. She has her own rules, her own code. But they are effective. Would I like six detectives like her? No, of course not. And if not for departmental rules, I'd let her work alone. She can handle herself out there. She knows the streets of both realms better than anyone in the DDMLE. I don't envy you, Detective. But like it or not, she's your partner."

"Why doesn't she want anyone to like her?" The question sounded childish, but she had to ask.

Shaklebolt stared at her. Alexandra Slytherin had been with Benson two days, going on a third, and had already figured out what others hadn't in years. At nineteen years of age, Joan Benson was abrasive. Not by nature, he knew. But by design. It had taken him three of her four years at Homicide to figure that out. And one night, in a quiet downtown bar that bordered the realms, Joan Benson bared her soul to him. He hadn't been able to look at her the same since.

* * *

><p>Shaklebolt glanced out his windows, finding Joan's chair empty. It wasn't really his place to tell Alexandra Slytherin about Joan's past, but he thought this time, maybe he'd found someone to do what many had deemed impossible: stay by Joan Benson. Alexandra Slytherin wasn't some pureblood who was in competition with Joan, unlike some of her other partners.<p>

"What I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room at all, Detective. Any memory of what I'm about to tell you, protect above anything else," he said, his voice serious as could be.

Alexandra nodded. "I swear on my honor as the Heir of Slytherin that I will not reveal anything told to me inside this room to anyone with the exception of Joan Benson and Kingsley Shaklebolt should the need arise," she swore quietly as Shaklebolt's eyes widened in shocked. Emerald light glowed from her before dying down.

Shaklebolt swallowed silently at the severity of that oath. It was akin to that of an Unbreakable Vow. If Alexandra broke it, she would not only lose her position as Heir, but her life and magic as well.

He sighed as Alexandra looked to him with a raised eyebrow, telling him to begin. "Joan's father was on the force. A detective, too. Powerful muggleborne wizard. When she was ten, one night at dinnertime, a man broke in. He disarmed Joan's father and mother and tied them all to chairs in their dining room. Mother, father, two brothers and a sister. And her. One by one, he _Crucio'd_ them, before killing them with an _Avada Kedevra_. Joan was the last one left alive. He held his wand to her head, but he didn't curse her. He didn't _Crucio_ her. He didn't _Avada_ her. He never spoke a word. He just left. Left her tied to her chair with her dead family surrounding her. They never caught the man who killed them. Never solved the case. And to add salt to her wounds, she was bitten by a rare form of werewolf two weeks after the death of her family."

"Oh my God," Alexandra whispered in disbelief.

"She has all the files, all the old data. She still works the case, I'm certain of it, but she'll never admit to it. It eats at her. She doesn't have anyone in her life, Slytherin. No family, no friends that I know of. Just this job and old memories and a furry little problem. She's reckless beyond words because deep down, she doesn't really care if lives or dies. The wolf that bit her made her an Alpha, so she makes her own rules, her own code, and lives by them."

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"She's angry, Alexandra. Angry at life. Angry at her furry little problem. Angry at the man who slaughtered her family. So if she lashes out at you, it's not personal."

Alexandra nodded. Jesus, now what? How could she possibly be annoyed at this woman? It wasn't her fault. She'd been dealt a bad hand that destroyed her life.

"If she ever finds out that I told you, it'll be hell to pay, full moon or not. Your title isn't going to protect you, Detective, I want you to know that. No one knows. That was nine years ago."

"How _did she_ survive? I mean, mentally?"

Shaklebolt smiled. "Some would say she didn't. She may be young, but she's a very strong woman. She lived with her aunt down in Brownsville after that. Came back up at the age of fifteen and entered the Academy. Graduated after a year. She's managed. She told me she's even made friends with her wolf half. She's a good cop. I think that's why she won't let a case rest until it's solved. I've seen her work twenty-four hours straight on numerous occasions, even during the full moon. But then, given her condition, I don't think she sleeps that much anyway. She said she still has nightmares."

"I can't believe she opened up that much to you. She barely speaks to me and then, only when I ask her questions."

He nodded. "I got her drunk under the guise of her eighteenth birthday one night in a downtown border dive. I think she was embarrassed by it. Wouldn't speak to me for a week afterwards."

"You said that she was bitten by a werewolf. The full moon is soon. Will she not come to work?"

He chuckled at that one. Nothing was going to stop Joan Benson from work, be it hell or high water or even a furry little problem. "The werewolf that bit her was a rare breed that grants transformations at will. Around the full moon, though, these transformations are less controlled and tend to be more volatile. When the full moon comes, you're going to have to be careful around her. The slightest thing could set her off and have her lashing out. It's nearly happened here before, but she's taken to wearing silver wristbands during the full moon on Department orders. Says it itches. If you can, work on keeping her calm," he warned.

Alexandra nodded. "I won't ever bring it up, Lieutenant. But thank you for telling me. Her…attitude at least makes sense now."

* * *

><p>Alexandra was still visibly shaken as she walked back to her desk. She couldn't even comprehend the pain a ten-year-old girl felt after seeing her family tortured and murdered. After nearly being a victim herself, only to be left behind, alive and alone. The pain had to be unbearable.<p>

Joan Benson's chair was empty and Alexandra noticed letters floating in the air that formed a message.

_"Gone to lab."_

"Great," she muttered.

"Good morning, Detective Slytherin."

Alexandra turned as Sirius Black made his way over to her. His charcoal-grey shirt accented his eyes and he flashed his charming smile. For some reason, it did nothing for her.

"Morning, Black."

"Where's your partner?"

"She went to the lab."

"Taking off without you already? Get used to it." He again sat on the corner of desk, avoiding Joan's, ignoring the small crater in her own desk, and sipped, from what she could smell, his tea. "So, has she hit you on yet?" he asked casually.

"Excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.

"As pretty as you are, I figured she'd try the first day. Watson said she'd wait a week at least."

"What are you blathering about, Black?"

"Come on. She's a lesbo. A dyke." He bent closer to her. "I told her you were way out of her league, though. You have nothing to truly worry about."

Alexandra leaned back, away from him. She didn't know what to say. Actually, the thought that Joan was a lesbian hadn't even crossed her mind. She'd been too busy being angry with her to be curious about her personal life. But then, so much more made sense now. The men didn't just hate her because she was a woman and a muggleborne. It was because she was a gay woman. An attractive gay woman who wouldn't give any of them the time of day.

"Black, why do I get the feeling that you're the one flirting and hitting on me? I mean, I thought you were the one who was gay," she said with a smile.

He leapt off the desk as though he had been burned, nearly spilling his tea in the process.

"What the hell? I'm not a goddamn fag! Where'd you get that?"

She smiled mockingly at him. "There's nothing wrong with it if you are," she said.

"Well, I'm not!" he blustered angrily.

She shrugged. "It's just the way you dress, you know. So neat. Everything matching perfectly."

His retort died as Shaklebolt stuck his head out of his office.

"Black, Markovsky, got a domestic over near Fair Park, magical realm. Apparent murder-suicide. A detective from Family Violence is there now."

"Yes, sir. Right on it," Markovsky said. "Come on, Black."

Sirius looked back at Alexandra. "We'll finish this later."

"Sure."

Alexandra was left alone in the squad room with Watson and Coward. Neither of them looked her way, let alone bothered to spare her a glance. She noticed that their desks were the only ones that didn't face each other. Instead, they sat at an angle. Most likely, so their inhabitants wouldn't have to stare at each other all day. She shook her head. Talk about a dysfunctional squad. She found it amazing that they were as successful as they were. She had never heard rumors that there were problems in Homicide. In fact, there had been nothing but praise for the division and for Lieutenant Shaklebolt. Of course, they probably kept everything in-house, everyone putting on happy faces and the like once they left the confines of the precinct and pretended to work as a team. Wasn't it like that with Benson? Both days, she'd treated Alexandra as a partner. Well, sort of. At least she hadn't completely ignored her.

* * *

><p>It was only a short time later that Benson walked in, swept past their desks without a word and headed straight for the coffee. Alexandra sighed. She got up and followed Joan.<p>

"Want some?" Joan asked, holding up a cup.

"No, thank you. Did you find anything?"

"Got a semen match. Of course, fat lot a good it did us. We already figured that it was the same perp."

"So, we need to find out who Diamond worked for," Alexandra said.

"She worked for the Rabastan Lestrange. He's known for working girls in both realms. I'll go out and see if I can find some of his girls in the realms. See if I can find him," Joan said with a shrug.

"_We'll_ go out," Alexandra corrected.

Joan stared at her and then shrugged. "To each their own, I guess." She moved to walk away, but Alexandra caught her arm.

"Can we talk?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"In private?" Alexandra asked quietly.

Joan looked around, and then motioned towards the ladies room. Alexandra followed.

* * *

><p>"What's up?" Joan asked once the door shut.<p>

Alexandra didn't answer, instead, waving her hand towards the door and muttered, _"Muffialto."_

She turned to Joan. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what? That I was headed to the Lab? I left you a note, and you were in with the Lieutenant anyway. I figured you were requesting a new partner, anyhow."

"I'm not talking about the lab. And I certainly wasn't asking for a new partner. Why did you tell me you were gay?" she asked.

Joan smiled. "Why would I tell you? I don't recall you telling me that you were straight," she said. "Besides, are you blind?" she asked, motioning to herself.

"It just never occurred to me. I wouldn't want to assume just because you look…" Alexandra trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

"Look what? Butch?" Joan asked with a slight laugh.

"I wasn't going to say that," Alexandra murmured. She looked at Joan, really looked at her for the first time. She was attractive, in an androgynous sort of way. Her dark hair was shaggy, but it was short and hung over her eyes slightly in a messily-neat sort of fashion, if it was possible. High cheekbones, sharp jaw, smooth tan skin, full lips, long eyelashes that framed darkened, storm-grey intense eyes behind the frames of her glasses. Eyelashes that most women would envy. No, she would never use _butch_ to describe this woman. But she was powerful, not just in a magical sense. Tall, fit. No wonder the guys felt threatened by her.

"Look, you're not a homophobe, are you?" Joan asked in exasperation. "I've already dealt with my quota," she said.

"I just think you could've told me so I wouldn't have to hear it from Black," she protested.

"It's not really your business, is it?" Joan growled out, stepping closer, her eyes darkening even more. "I don't bring my personal life into the squad room. I would hope spare me the same courtesy and not subject me to stories of you and your boyfriend."

"Don't you think that we could work better together as partners if we shared a little about our lives and attempted to be friends?" Alexandra asked, ignoring Joan's comment and the way her own heart raced at her proximity.

"I'm not your friend, and you're not mine. We work together. After that, you go home to your boyfriend and your pureblooded friends. You have another life, one that's separate from this."

"Who do you go home to?" Alexandra asked quietly.

"I don't go home," Joan said coldly.

They faced each other, darkening storm-grey eyes locked on emerald green.

"Why is it so hard for you to talk to me? Why won't you even attempt a friendly relationship with me?" Alexandra asked.

Joan's fist tightened, her inner wolf starting to growl. "Has the thought that maybe, I just don't like you, ever crossed your mind? Perhaps I don't want a friendly relationship with you. We aren't friends. We work together. That's it, end of story. And when you go home at night, I'm certain that you'll be glad to be rid of me."

Joan turned and swept away, canceling the _Muffialto _charm on the door, her inner wolf snarling in fury, leaving a seething Alexandra Slytherin glaring after her.

"Yeah. I'll be glad to be rid of you, all right," she said angrily as the door closed. "Bitch," she muttered through clenched teeth.

She looked at herself in the floor-length mirror, then pulled her fist back, executing the best punch she'd ever thrown.

* * *

><p>Joan jumped at the sound of breaking glass. Even Watson and Coward stood up in curiosity. She kept walking, ignoring Lieutenant Shaklebolt as he came out of his office.<p>

"What the hell was that?"

Joan shrugged. "Apparently, Lady Slytherin's got a temper."

Everyone in the squad room stared as Alexandra walked out of the ladies' room and brushed past Joan. She sat down and picked up the file on their latest Jane Doe. Then she looked up, seeing all eyes on her.

"What?"

They all shrugged and went back to their desks. Joan looked to Shaklebolt with raised eyebrows. He merely shrugged in response, heading back to his office.

As Joan sat down behind her desk, she let a faint smile trace her lips. _I was right_.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter SIX. Please Leave a Review.<strong>

**-The Way of the Dream**


	8. Chapter 7

**Sorry about not having updated in a while. I've got finals in less than a week and I'm cramming like mad. Anyhow, here's the next chapter. Sorry it's so short, but my mind is stuck and full of AB Calc. problems.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. Each belong to J. K. Rowling and Gerri Hill respectively. I only own Joan and Alexandra and any other character that you don't recognize from either set of book. Also, this story contains FEMSLASH, meaning a two women having a relationship. If such a thing bothers you, look for another story.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter SEVEN: After Work<strong>

"She's impossible to work with, Daphne," Alexandra explained in exasperation. She looked up as the waiter brought their drinks. "Thank you." Then she turned back to Daphne. "Antagonistic, rude, Alpha complex. I think she practices being a bitch, enjoys it, too."

"So you really broke the mirror?" Daphne asked, trying to smother a laugh at the thought.

"Merlin, I was so embarrassed. I don't know what came over me. Well, I do know. She just…drives me mad! If I didn't think she'd hurt me, I'd have tackled her and beat the shite out of her!"

Daphne let out the laugh that she'd been holding back. "I've never seen you this upset before. Why are you letting her get to you?"

"Because we have to work together. I've always been able to be friends with my partners, maybe not to the point of hanging out after work or anything along those lines. We each had our separate lives, but we talked, just normal conversations where we share things. With Joan, it's all work and even then, it's like having to pull the teeth of a Chinese Fireball to get anything out of her!"

"Why don't you go to her Lieutenant?" Daphne suggested.

Alexandra rolled her eyes. "This isn't school anymore, Daphne. I'm not going to run and tattle and complain that she's not playing nice. Besides, he knows how she is. Everyone knows how she is," she said dryly.

"You've been there a week. How are you going to make a month or even a year?"

"I can't. Not like this. Call me foolish, but I keep thinking that if I try to be nice to her, she'll come around. Merlin, she calls me Alex. Can you believe that?"

"And you let her?" Daphne asked in disbelief. No one could get away with calling Alexandra 'Alex', not even Blaise.

"I've asked her not to. She ignores me," Alexandra said in aggravation.

"Well, I don't envy you. What does Blaise say about it?"

"I haven't really told him. He just thinks that it's the stress of a new job. We've only seen each other once this week," Alexandra said with a shrug, trying to downplay it.

Daphne raised her eyebrows. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, fine. With my hours, I'm exhausted when I get home. Blaise and I are going to spend the weekend together."

"Careful, Alexandra," Daphne warned. "Don't let this new position screw up your relationship with Blaise."

"I'm not, Daphne. Don't worry," Alexandra assured, thankful for her friend's concern.

Truthfully though, she wondered if subconsciously, she was thankful for her new position. She'd enjoyed being away from Blaise this week.

* * *

><p>Joan slipped out of the shadows and swept down the dark streets, hood pulled up, the steady drizzle that had been coming down all day, pelting her hoodie-jacket combo. The Friday night crowd was thin, the rain and chill having put a damper on many evening plans, no doubt. She spotted two girls huddled together on a corner and she walked over, lowering her hood as she approached.<p>

"Evening, ladies," she said smoothly. She reached into her jacket and flashed her badge to their rolling eyes.

"We ain't doing nothing wrong," one said. "We just here standing and visiting."

"I'm not looking to bust you, not tonight." Joan reached back into her jacket, pulling out the two pictures of Ellis and Diamond, and held them up. "Know 'em?"

They looked at each other, then back at her.

"Know they're dead," the blonde said.

"Know who lay work for?"

"No," they answered quickly.

"Rabastan Lestrange?"

"Never heard of him." Joan grinned at the classic street response given to a cop when one knew, but wanted to live a little bit longer.

"Oh, come on now, ladies. This is his area. All I want to do is just talk to him."

"Hey, man, he didn't do this!" the redhead protested.

"And I don't think he did. I'm looking for johns, don't matter which realm they're in," Joan drawled out.

"You know how it works, officer. We don't take names. Not like they give real one out, anyway."

Joan nodded in understanding. They were scared, that much, Joan could tell and smell. But they weren't talking. She reached back into her jacket and pulled out her card, handing it to the blonde.

"Call me if you hear anything, okay? Streets and borders aren't safe for you right now, even with wands. You need to be careful about who you pick up," Joan said as she turned as gazed down the street.

"But enough of all of that. Off record, what's new?"

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter SEVEN. Again, sorry it's so short. I'll try for something longer in a few, but I'm not promising anything. If you like the story, leave me a review to let me know. I'd really appreciate it (and the review can be in your native tongue. I don't mind so long as you leave one).<strong>

**-The Way of the Dream**


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Sorry about not having updated. Moving a few weeks, have finals next week. Cramming like mad. However, I've made the chapter longer to make up for the time I haven't updated. My updating during the summer is going to be sporadic, just to warn you. So, enjoy chapter EIGHT of Benson's Way.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP or Hunter's Way. Both belong to their respective author. Also, this story contains femslash. Don't like? Don't read.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter EIGHT: Terrorist Threats and the Adventure of a Lifetime<strong>

Alexandra was late. She'd spent the weekend with Blaise. Despite having planned to go home on Sunday, Blaise had talked her into staying. She'd barely had time to Apparate home and shower, then ended getting caught up in the morning traffic. Now it was nine-fifteen and she hurried into the Bullpen, tossing a quick "good morning" to Sergeant Holland as she passed by.

"Sorry I'm late," she said to Joan as she pulled out her chair.

"No problem," Joan said without looking up from her file.

"Did you have a good weekend?" Alexandra asked. She told herself that she was going to attempt to get along with Benson. And she was determined to draw her partner out, consequences be damned.

"It was lovely," Joan replied dryly, glancing up from her file. "You?"

Alexandra was startled by the question. "Yes. Caught up on sleep," she offered.

"That why you're late? Slept in?"

Alexandra smiled. "No. I was at Blaise's. Had to Apparate by my flat this morning."

Joan nodded. She would make an effort. She had spent all Sunday on her boat, fishing and relaxing, and dealing with the full moon. She told herself that she was being a little too hard on Alexandra. What would it hurt to open up a little?

"This boyfriend of your, is it serious?'

Alexandra stared. Joan was actually asking a personal question. What the hell was wrong with her?

"Not marriage serious," she said, leaning forward. "What's wrong with you?"

"Pardon?"

"Body snatchers?"

Joan smiled slightly in amusement. "Yes. Don't worry, they'll return my evil twin in a few hours."

Before their banter could continue a firm, "Benson, Slytherin. In here," echoed through the squad room.

They both turned as Shaklebolt stuck his head out of his office. They looked back at each other and shrugged.

"Whatever's happened, I didn't do it," Joan grumbled.

* * *

><p>"Before anything else, I'd like to say that I didn't do it," Joan said as she took one of the chairs in front of his desk.<p>

"You're not in trouble, Joan."

"Okay, then. What's up?" she asked.

"How's your Jane Doe?"

"Dead end. No one's talking, they're all too scared as far as I can tell. Can't find Rabastan Lestrange. As far as I know, he's just a name."

"And the girls?"

"No ID. No priors."

He sighed. "Okay. Border Realm CIU is requesting," Joan scoffed at that one. He glared. "They're requesting bodies. They got another terrorist alert. Oil and gas this time. There's an old gas company pipeline east of the city, roughly twenty acres, running through both realms. It's one of three that aren't being used at the moment. They need a hand in checking them out. I've sent Watson and Coward out to Mesquite. You guys run by there, make sure everything's quiet."

"It's not like we don't have a case, Lieutenant," Joan protested. "Can't the local sheriff take care of it?"

"You're case is a dead end, Benson. Said so yourself. Besides, Markovsky and Black are both out. It'll just take an hour to drive out there. All you have to do is make sure nothing's going on; no vehicles, no activity, and report back to CIU and head back. Simple."

"If it's so simple, why aren't they doing it?" The wolf inside Joan had a bad feeling about this, and Joan was inclined to agree.

"Because they've got their hands full with the ones that are active, Benson. That's obviously the most likely target. We all know that the ones that are shut down still have a ton of shite underground, after all, it's not like they secure the area when they close up shop."

"Four thousand cops on either side and it falls on to DDMLE Homicide?"

"Give me a break, Benson. I'm just following orders."

Joan just glared at him.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Joan. It'll be fun. Give us a chance to talk," Alexandra said as they walked out of Shaklebolt's office.<p>

"Fun? Talk?" She walked back over to her desk, grabbing and holstering her gun and wand, before sweeping towards the squadroom doors. "Alex, just because we had a little chat this morning, nothing has really changed. I'm still a bitch."

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a minute. And I'd hardly call that a chat."

Joan allowed a smile to touch her lips, one that she kept hidden from Alexandra. She rapped her knuckles on the counter. "Holland? Lieutenant's sending us to damn near Terrell. You got a Mazarati or something gassed up and ready to go?"

"Sure, Benson. Why don't you just take the Lexus?" He grabbed the keys off the rack and tossed them to her. "221. Bring her back in one piece."

Alexandra watched the exchange with wide eyes. She'd never seen Joan joke around with anyone before. And especially Holland. If there was anyone in this office that intimidated her other than Joan, it was this giant of a man.

* * *

><p>The Lexus ended up being a coal black Hummer. Standard issue. No perks. Alexandra didn't even suggest that she drive, just went to the passenger's side.<p>

* * *

><p>Joan maneuvered them through downtown and to the interstate in silence. They were several miles away when the silence finally got the Alexandra.<p>

"Where do you live?"

Joan glanced at her then back at the road. "Why?"

"Just curious, trying to make a conversation," she said with a shrug.

"I have a tiny apartment on the south side of Dallas, muggle realm. Near Oak Cliff. Don't go there much though. I have a boat, a cabin cruiser, on Phoenix Mountain Lake. That's more home, but I don't make out there too much, either."

"So I was right, you don't sleep." _Oak Cliff? Merlin, why would a cop live near Oak Cliff?_

"I didn't say that."

"Okay. You just don't sleep in your own bed. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Like you didn't sleep in your own bed this weekend?" Joan fired back.

"So, is there someone special?" Alexandra asked, ignoring Joan's tone and question.

"Special?" Joan sounded confused.

"You know, a girlfriend?" Alexandra prompted.

Joan let out a bark-like laugh. "No girlfriend, no one special."

"One-night stands? Every night?"

"If I had the energy with the full moon," Joan muttered under her breath quietly so that Alexandra wouldn't hear her. Clearing her throat, she answered slightly louder, "No, downstairs in the gym, there's a cot in the locker room."

"I see. No wonder you seem to beat me to work every morning." Alexandra glanced her. "Does Shaklebolt know?"

"Of course. Who do you think put the cot down there?"

Alexandra hesitated, then turned to Joan again. "Why don't you go home?"

Inwardly, the wolf growled at the personal question. But outwardly, Joan merely tightened her hands on the wheel. If this had been last week, she'd have told her to mind her own fucking business or hex her into oblivion. But this was a new week and Joan was determined to make an effort.

"You were right. I don't go home," Joan said finally. "I just stay at the precinct late. I usually just go to the gym and work out anyway. I don't see the point in Apparating home when it's after midnight merely to turn around and Apparate right back."

Alexandra wanted to ask more, but dared not to. She was the grip Joan had on the wheel, and if she wasn't mistaken, she could hear a low rising growl. She thought she would just change the subject for both of their sakes.

"How will we know if anything is out of the ordinary? I mean, it's not like we know what a shut-down gas pipe is supposed to look like, do we?'

Joan merely shrugged. "Maybe there'll be all kinds of activity and we can call the boys at CIU to come to our rescue."

"Somehow, I just can't see you doing that," Alexandra said with a grin.

* * *

><p>Shaklebolt had been right. It took them only an hour to reach the area. They had to stop once for directions, and now they drove down the tiny country rode, past hay meadows and crop fields. They saw the towers of the old plant from a mile away. Joan slowed her speed as they pulled up to the locked gate. They got out and stood in front of the car, scanning the buildings for any activity, Joan's ears twitching and listening for noise, her eyes scanning for any trace of movement.<p>

"What do you hear?" Alexandra asked.

Joan turned to her slightly. "Surprisingly, nothing. But my senses are going nuts. Something's here, I just don't know what yet. You see anything?"

"Nothing."

Joan turned back to face the gate. "Look in front of the gate."

"There's nothing. No track."

"No. Not there. But look up ahead, about fifteen, twenty yards," she said, pointing in the distance.

There, in the dirt, looked like fresh tire tracks. But not by the gate. The dirt looked almost as if had been brushed, obscuring the tracks.

"Oh shit," Alexandra muttered.

"Come on."

Joan turned the car around and then parked on the side of the road.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to have a look," Joan said with a shrug.

"Shouldn't we call it in?"

"Call what in? Tire tracks? So they can send out SWAT and find out there's nothin' here? We'd never hear the end of it."

Joan was already walking down the road, forcing Alexandra to jog to keep up. She was afraid that she was about to see Joan Benson in action. And she wasn't sure that she was prepared for it.

* * *

><p>"How are we going to get in?"<p>

"Climb the fence."

"Why don't we just Apparate in?" Alexandra asked.

"If you want to alert whatever and whoever's here to our presence, be my guest, Lady Slytherin," Joan said mockingly. "But I'd prefer to remain under the radar for the time being."

"But there's barbed wire at the top," Alexandra pointed out.

"And?"

Alexandra kept her mouth shut. It was pointless to ask questions. She followed along silently, stopping when Joan did about thirty yards away from the gate. She watched as Joan scanned the area, then followed her across the ditch to the fence.

"Take your jacket off," Joan instructed.

"My jacket?"

"We need something to wrap around the wire."

"My _jacket_?" Alexandra repeated again. "Do you have any idea as to how much this jacket costs?"

Joan just stood there, staring at Alexandra with a hand on her hip. After a few moments, she held her hand out. "Put it on my tab, Princess. Just give me the damn jacket."

Alexandra took off the jacket. She watched as Joan climbed the ten-foot fence, dangling from the side with one arm as she wound the jacket around the barbed wire with the other. Then she swung her leg over, slitting across the wire.

"Damn," Joan hissed. Even with jean, the barbs stuck her. She pulled her leg free, then dropped to the ground on the other side, muttering a quiet, "_Episkey,_" as she hit the ground.

Alexandra stared at her. She looked down at her own slacks and loafers, then back at Joan's jeans and combat boots.

"Well? I haven't got all day, Alex," Joan said impatiently. "Come on."

"You seriously expect me to do that?"

"Every minute we spend here is another minute for whatever's here to find us. Just climb up, swing your legs off, jump down. How hard is it? Be thankful, at least, that it's just barbed wire and not razor wire. Then you'd have problems."

Alexandra growled slightly and closed her mouth. She refused to complain any further. So she ripped her pants? So her jacked was ruined? By Merlin, she was following Joan Benson over the goddamn fence!

Easier said than done. She got to the top, but didn't have the strength to pull herself over.

"Jesus Christ," Joan muttered in aggravation. She climbed back up and reached over, grabbing Alexandra by the thigh and pulled on leg over.

"Ouch…damn, Benson. Will you watch it? You're ripping my leg off!" Alexandra teetered on the top, her eyes squeezed closed as she felt her flesh ripping from the barbs. Joan moved along the fence, reaching over again to grab the other leg.

"Will you come on?"

"I hate you. You know that, don't you?"

Joan ignored her, instead pulling Alexandra's leg free of the barbs, nearly pushing her to the ground. Alexandra landed on her ass. Joan dropped down beside her, a wolfish grin on face.

"That was great."

"If you tell _anyone_ about what just happened, I'm going to hex you and then shoot you," Alexandra threatened.

Joan laughed, then reached out a hand and pulled Alexandra to her feet. Jogging they rest of the way to the first building, they walked quietly along the side to the door. They paused, listening, Joan's ears twitching. Joan could make out quiet muffles, but she wasn't sure if it was from behind the door itself. She tried the handle, but it was locked.

"_Alohomora_," Joan whispered, flicking her wrist slightly. Nothing.

Joan growled, but Alexandra pulled her along. They walked down to the windows and peered inside. It was dark, but neither one of them could see movement.

"Come on. Let go around back," Joan said quietly.

They rounded the corner, then stopped, both pressing themselves against the side. Three trucks were parked in the back and several men stood around them.

"Now seems like a good idea to call it in," Alexandra hissed.

"Yeah, you're right." Joan grabbed her phone, never taking her eyes off the men. She punched the number without looked. "Holland? Tell Shaklebolt to send the troops. Yeah." She looked behind them. "Oh fuck!" She swore as she hung up and stuffed her phone into her jacket as two men approached them from behind. She grabbed Alexandra's hand and started running towards the towers. Shouts, then gunfire followed them.

They slipped behind one tower, pausing to get their bearings. It was at least two hundred yards to the woods and other fence. Between them and that lay ground wells.

"Come on, Alex. Run!"

"Don't call me _Alex_!" Alexandra snapped as they ran.

* * *

><p>Joan passed by two wells before stopping. At the third, she grabbed the metal ladder and slid down about ten feet down the ladder.<p>

"Come on!" she yelled.

"Oh, shit," Alexandra murmured. But she followed Joan down the well nonetheless. "Do I _even_ want to know what's down here?"

"No."

They crawled down the ladder nearly thirty more feet before the rungs ran out. Joan felt for the ledge and found one, a tiny one barely a foot wide. She stepped gingerly onto it, guiding Alexandra down beside her. They both pressed against the damp wall. Up above, they heard shouting and swearing.

"They don't know which well we went into," Joan remarked quietly.

"Great. Is know a good time to tell you that I'm claustrophobic?"

"No." Joan turned, facing Alexandra, then stepped around her, straddling her body with both legs as she struggled to stay on the tiny ledge.

"Do we really know each other well enough for this?" Alexandra whispered as she felt Joan's body pressed up tight against her own.

Joan chuckled. "You wish," she said quietly, the reached around her to grab the ladder. She put her hand of Alexandra's waist and pushed off, hanging on to the ladder with both hands.

"Stay here."

"Like I'm going somewhere," Alexandra whispered. She couldn't see a foot in front of her and she was afraid to look up, fearful that she would see them looking back at her.

"Wouldn't now be a good time to use a _Lumos_ charm?" Alexandra asked.

"Not unless you want to die sooner. The more time we have to stay concealed, the better," Joan replied as she grabbed the ladder tightly and went know, hanging by her arms until she hit the water.

"Shit."

She lowered herself into the cold, rank water until she touched the bottom. The water was up to her shoulders.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"There's always a tunnel. This water has to go somewhere."

"A _tunnel_? Are you out of your _mind_?"

"From what I could see, it was a mixed group. Some of them had wands some of them didn't, and all of them were carrying pieces. Those that don't have their wands have gone to get lights and those that have them are going to cast _Lumos_ spells. They're going to shine them down here and find us and then they are going to shoot us. So yes, I'm hoping there's a goddamn tunnel!"

Joan muttered the incantation for the _Bubble-Head_ charm, then plunged into the water. She felt along the side, finally finding the opening she was looking for. She swam into it, then up into the air pocket, the charm disappearing. She had no idea where the tunnel ended up, but it was better that being sitting ducks in the well. She cast the charm against, then went back the way she came, breaking the water at Alexandra's feet.

"Come on, I found it," she said.

"No. I can't," Alexandra insisted.

"Yes, you can. Now come on, there's no more time."

The voices were louder. Soon, they would be caught.

"Alex, now," Joan hissed, grabbing Alexandra's foot and nearly dragging her over the side.

They splashed together into the water, Alexandra clutching Joan hard around the shoulders.

"I hate this. I absolutely _bloody fucking_ hate this!"

"It's not to bad from where I'm standing," Joan remarked in a casual murmur as two frantic hands moved over her shoulders.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" But Alexandra didn't release her grip.

"I'll cast a dual _Bubble-Head_ charm for the both of us," Joan said calmly. "I'll guide you through. There's an air pocket in the tunnel, so you shouldn't have to rely on the spell for too long. You'll be fine."

"If we make it out of here alive, forget hexing you. I'm going to shoot you myself," Alexandra hissed through clenched teeth.

"On three."

Joan quietly murmured the incantation as they both silently counted. Then Joan disappeared under the water, pulling Alexandra with her. Alexandra was certain that the charm was end before they reached the air pocket, then Joan pushed her up and she banged her head on the top of the tunnel, wheezing slightly.

"Have I ever told you that I hate you with an unrivaled passion?" Alexandra gasped. "You damn near gave me a bloody concussion."

"You did great."

"Uh-huh. Now what?"

"Now we see where the tunnel goes."

"See? I can't even see you," Alexandra said.

_"Lumos."_

A pale light filled the tunnel. "Better?" Joan asked.

"Much. Could be brighter, though."

"Any brighter and they'll notice. I'm trying to buy us some time. For now, we're going to have to feel our way. These ground wells have to empty somewhere. A holding tank or something."

"What are these things anyway?" Alexandra asked.

"Probably where they dump the waste water."

"Do I want to know?"

"No."

"You don't think there are like…rats or something in here, do you?"

"No. No rats. Maybe snakes," Joan said.

"Snakes are good," Alexandra remarked.

"For you, and by extension myself, that they are. Now come on."

* * *

><p>They inched along the tunnel, keeping their heads above the water in the air pocket. Alexandra held tightly to Joan's waist as Joan felt along the sides of the tunnel, using the limited light that they had to try and see what was ahead. They came to a junction with another and stopped. Closing her eyes, Joan trued to imagine the direction. The tunnels they entered would have been on the north side of the tunnel. Most of the other wells were to the east. Logic would make the tunnel to the west the drain tunnel. But just to be sure…<p>

Joan opened her eyes. _"Point me,"_ she whispered. Her wand flipped in its holster, it's tipping facing behind them before it returned to back to its original place.

"What do you think?" Alexandra asked.

"We go left," Joan said.

Alexandra nodded. She wasn't going to argue. She never released her hold on Joan's waist. The water level lowered considerably as they walked on and she slipped down once, nearly pulling Joan with her.

"Hang on," Joan said. She turned around and gripped Alex's arms, pulling her up. "You okay?"

"Just peachy," Alexandra murmured.

"You really ought to wear sensible shoes," Joan teased.

"These shoes are perfectly sensible for the city. Had I known that we were going to go _swimming_, I would've dressed appropriately."

"Okay…I'm trying to picture you in a bikini."

"I haven't worn a bikini in ten years."

"Okay. A one-piece Speedo then," Joan said as they continued walking up the tunnel. The water was up to their waists now. "A dark green one. You know, to bring out your eyes."

Alexandra grinned. One-piece Speedo? She hadn't been swimming in years, either.

* * *

><p>"Hey, look," Joan said, her <em>Lumos<em> spell wearing off.

Alexandra looked around Joan and laughed. Daylight!

"Oh, thank Merlin," she said.

"Thank Merlin? I'm the one that dragged you through this tunnel," Joan said.

"Yes. You're the one that dragged me into this tunnel."

"Better than getting shot."

"Definitely."

The tunnel was level and Alexandra finally released her hold on Joan as they made their way to the tunnel's entrance. But up ahead, a creature lurked and Alexandra grabbed hold of Joan once again.

"What they hell is that?" she whispered.

"Too big for a rat. Maybe a nutria," Joan said with a shrug.

"A what?"

"Nutria. Big, hairy water rat," Joan explained.

Alexandra gripped Joan's arm tighter, wrapping her arms around Joan's waist.

"What the hell are you doing?" Joan questioned, wincing slightly at Alexandra's grip.

"Hex it!"

"Absolutely not."

"They I will. Get out of my way."

"Alex, it lives here. This is his home. We're not going to shoot it, nor are we going to hex it. Besides, don't you think that it would draw attention to us?"

"I know you don't expect me walk _past_ it," she said.

"Stay here, then."

"Gladly."

Alexandra looked behind her, envisioning hundreds of the hairy creatures coming at her from the tunnel. She shivered, wishing it were snakes instead. Joan walked closer to the creature, growling as she went. It finally crawled out towards the entrance and disappeared.

"All clear," Joan called.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now come on."

Alexandra walked slowly towards Joan, her eyes never leaving the entrance, watching for the rat to reappear.

"It's fine, Alex. I doubt they'd attack. Poor guy seemed more afraid of us than you did of him." _Doesn't hurt that I threatened to make him my next meal come full moon._

"I'm not even going to ask how you knew what it was," she said.

"I lived down in the Brownsville area for a while, muggle half, on the coast. They used to come out right before dark," Joan said with a shrug.

Alexandra stared. This was the first bit of personal information Joan had willing shared with her.

"I like to think that they're more beaver than rat," Joan continued.

"Well that makes all the difference," Alexandra said. "Why didn't you say so to being with?"

"And miss out on you pressing yourself to me?"

Alexandra smiled. "I probably would've pressed myself to you anyway. Might've climbed on your back given the chance."

They both stood at the entrance to the tunnel. Alexandra rolled her eyes. They were thirty feet up. She wondered where the damn rat had gone.

"We're thirty feet up. Where the hell's the rat?" she asked.

"Probably jumped. Rats have been known to survive falls from five stories," Joan said, never taking her eyes off the bottom. "Damn. Can you believe the dump this shit right into the creek?" she asked, pointing.

"We'll play environmental cop later, Joan. We aren't rats, so how the hell are we getting out of here?"

Joan griped the sides of the tunnel, looking up. They were on the side of the creek bed. It was probably only ten feet up tot the top, but there were no footholds. Concrete had been poured. She turned and looked back down. A few tree roots. A few tree roots protruded, but not much else.

"Wonder how deep it is?" Joan said conversationally.

"Deep? The creek? I _know _you're not mad enough to suggest we jump," Alexandra said.

"Just in case we fall," Joan said. "Come on."

"Come on where? Why the hell don't we just conjure a rope?"

"My way's faster. Besides, we've got nothing to tie it to should we conjure one. Now, we're going to climb down." Joan was already sitting on the tunnel floor, legs dangling over the sides.

"Have you gone mad?"

"It's been mentioned," she said lightly. "Sit down here," Joan instructed, pointing beside her.

"I'm not exactly crazy about heights," Alexandra murmured. "Is now a good time to tell you that?"

"Then I'll go first. If you start to fall, I'll catch you."

"Oh, well that makes me feel better."

* * *

><p>They both sat side by side, peering over the edge. Then they looked at each other and started to laugh.<p>

"Been a hell of a day, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Alexandra said. "And I have a feeling that it's far from over."

"Creek beds are usually pretty soft. You know, with the mud and all that."

"In case I fall?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were going to catch me."

"In case I don't."

Alexandra watched as Joan turned around and gripped the edge of the tunnel, lowering herself. She grabbed and root, then slipped as it pulled from the earth. She dropped five feet before stopping.

"You're not allergic to poison ivy, are you?" Joan called up.

"I don't know."

"Well, you'll know in a few days." Joan continued to climb down, finally looking back as Alexandra still sat on the edge. "Come one, Alex. You can't stay up there."

"You could use your cell phone and call for help. Send a _Patronus_?" she suggested.

"Well, besides the fact that my phone's been under water for a while now and the fact that a _Patronus_ be like sending up a signal flare to all the bad guys screaming, 'Here we are, come kill us'? Imagine what they guys would say about that. No way. I'd rather hex myself.

"I'd rather get rescued by a helicopter," Alexandra murmured. Then she took a deep breath and attempted to follow Joan down. Unfortunately, the tree root didn't hold. She slid and bumped her way down the embankment; landing with a thud in the water, face first. It was waist deep.

Joan tried in vain to grab her as she slid past. Without thinking, she jumped the last twenty feet landing just beyond Alex in deep water. She grabbed her.

"Are you okay?"

"As soon as I find my _gun_, I will be. Forget hexing you, I'm just going to shoot you," Alexandra hissed out.

Joan laughed, then reached out and brushed at the mud covering Alex's face. She laughed harder.

Alexandra stood up straight. "_Expelliarmus_," she growled out, diving for Joan, as she was send flying backwards. She tackled her and landed them both in the water again. They both came up sputtering. They stood in waist-high water, staring at each other as mud and water ran down their faces. Joan grinned and Alex did the same. Then they laughed, hard laughs that shook them both.

"Wonder where the hell we are," Alexandra finally said.

Joan looked at her watch. It had been two hours.

"Wonder where the cavalry is?"

The words had barely left Joan's mouth when gunfire was heard. They both look up, listening.

"Come on," Joan said. She grabbed Alex's hand and pulled her out of the water.

They waded though the creek to the other side. Alexandra only had one shoe. They took only a few steps before the gunfire stopped.

"That didn't take long," Joan said. She walked over and was helping Alex along when the explosion hit. Joan took them to the ground, the wolf inside of her moving her to cover Alex's body with her own. The earth beneath them shook, then another, smaller explosion sounded.

"Are you okay?"

Alexandra considered the question. She was soaking wet and covered with mud. Her clothes were ruined and she'd lost a shoe. And now, the not unpleasant weight of another woman covered her body. Was she okay? Hell yes, she'd just had the time of her life.

"You weight a ton," Alexandra said finally, hearing Joan chuckle and then felt her move away. They sat up, looking back to the tunnel they had come out from. Smoke was seeping out.

"Damn."

Alex nodded, glancing once at Joan. They were sitting side by side, soaked head to toe. It was obvious Joan wore no bra today…her shirt clung to her. For some unknown reason, Alex couldn't pull her eyes away. Then a shoulder nudged her own.

"Come on. They'll be looking for us, if they weren't already."

Alexandra blinked and looked up, meeting Joan's dark silver eyes. Then she smiled and reached out, brushing at the mud covering Joan's face.

"I doubt that's really going to help," Joan remarked with a smile, standing and offering a hand to Alex, who took it willingly.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter EIGHT is done. -gasps for air- Finally. Sorry it's been so long, but I haven't had a lot of free time to myself. Hope this chapter makes up for all the time I've spent away.<strong>

**Now we're starting see feelings develop between our two detectives...**

**Anyway, if you enjoyed the chapter, leave me a review in any language to let me know. **

**-The Way of the Dream**


	10. Chapter 9

**This is going to be somewhat of a filler chapter. I need to appease the masses because updates are going to be as sporadic as heck. Sorry it's so short, but do enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. Each is respectively JK Rowling's and Gerri Hill's baby. Also, this story contains femslash, meaning romance between two females. Don't like? Don't read.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter NINE: Hell of a Day<strong>

"You could've been killed!" Blaise exclaimed for the third time within the hour. "I can't believe I was listening to it on the news all day and you were right in the middle of the fray." He brought over a cup of hot tea and Alexandra reached for it.

"I'm fine, Blaise. Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing more. Besides, Joan took care of my milder injuries. Nothing too severe." She sat in the corner of her sofa, wrapped up in a thick robe sipping her tea. After being wet all day, it had taken her hours to get warm, even with numerous Pepper-Up potions.

"So, are you going to stay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Stay? Stay where?"

"With Homicide? With your partner?"

She set her cup down and stared at him, her emerald eyes piercing his. "Blaise, what is it that you're asking?"

"I've heard stories about your partner. She's mad, a psychotic nutter by most accounts. I just think that this, working for Homicide and having _her_ as your partner, is more than you bargained for," he said evasively.

Alexandra, for some unknown reason, felt her blood being to boil at Blaise's comments of Joan being mad. "She's not mad, nor is she psychotic. She just…prefers to do things her way," she remarked. "As for this being more than I bargained for, perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't. Either way, I'm staying. Remember, you thought that CIU would be the perfect place for me, and look where I am now," she reminded him, leaning forward. "Blaise, in all my years on the force, this is the most fun I've ever had."

"Fun?" he asked in total disbelief.

"Yes, fun. It was exhilarating. And you know what? There wasn't a single moment that I felt like we were in danger. I mean, yes, we were in danger, but not grave danger. She was amazing, completely amazing. Whatever she suggested we do, I trusted her. Despite her maverick attitude, she was right. She got us out of there, alive and in one piece."

"She got you _in_ there," he said. "I've heard the stories about her, not just the ones about her being mad. She's dangerous."

"She's not dangerous. And like I said earlier, she's not mad. Besides, we were just doing our job, Blaise."

"You could've been killed."

"Enough of that, would you? I could be killed every time I go out."

Blaise sighed. "I just worry about you, honey." He sat down beside her and rubbed her thigh. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

"Oh, Blaise." She leaned forwards and kissed him. "I'm fine. Exhausted and slightly sore, but fine."

"You want me to stay with you tonight?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "No. I'm going to bed and crash. I doubt I'd be great company, anyhow."

"I hate to leave you. You know, if we lived together, I wouldn't have to leave," he said, moving to kiss her again.

Alexandra wanted to tell him that even though they didn't live together, he still didn't _have _to leave. But she wanted him to leave. She wanted to be alone. Like she said, she was sore and exhausted. The ordeal today and the endless questioning by all three CIU branches had lasted for hours and taken its toll on her.

"I just want to get some rest, Blaise. Maybe tomorrow, I'll get away early and cook dinner for you. How does that sound?"

He put his arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her forehead.

"That sounds great.

* * *

><p>Later, as she crawled under the covers along, she wondered Joan was doing. She wished she had her phone number. Surely, she wasn't at the station on the cot tonight. Surely, she went home. Alexandra laid back, her eyes pensive as she stared at the ceiling. Her new partner was most likely alone, with no one worrying over her well-being or bringing her a hot cup of tea. No one to fuss over her almost being killed. Her eyes turned sad at the thought. She hated to think of Joan being alone. Not after a day like today.<p>

And why was she alone? Alexandra knew very little about the gay lifestyle, but Joan was attractive. In fact, she was…gorgeous, with a body to go with it. Why didn't she have someone?

But Alexandra knew the answer. Joan didn't want someone.

* * *

><p>Joan flipped on the lights to her tiny flat and looked around. She hadn't been there in nearly a week. She tossed her keys on the counter, opened the fridge and stared inside. Two butterbeers, two beers, a bottle of firewhiskey, and a carton of milk that, judging by the smell, had soured. Nothing else. She inwardly cursed the Gamp's laws of Transfiguration at the sight. She slammed the door and opened a cabinet, taking out a bottle of bourbon. She grabbed a large glass and filled it nearly to the top, the moved to her lone chair, a simply recliner.<p>

"Hell of a day," she murmured to the empty room, her inner wolf howling its agreement.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter NINE. Again sorry it's so short<strong>

**From what I could gather reading the HP wikia page, Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration (Conjuration) kind of work the same way that our Laws of Matter work. Basically, in regards to food, you can't make it out of nothing. If you know where it is, you can summon it. If you've got some, you can increase it. But you can't create it from nothing.**

**If you liked the chapter, leave me a review to let me know.**

**-The Way of the Dream**


	11. Chapter 10

**Yes, I'm alive. Sorry this is coming out so late. My summer's been hectic, between homework and jumping across the world. I've had to re-do an AP Chem. course that I didn't do so hot on this year. The teacher's brutal. -groan- And on top of all that, I've gone and sliced my finger open trying to make myself lunch (it's my right pointer finger, the really important finger for writing and typing). So yeah, any new chapters are going to have to wait until I've got my finger back in working order. Anyhow, enjoy. (Sorry it's so short)**

**PS: In response to Susan's review that questions if they're witches or not, I've included something that kind of explains the reasoning for Alex not Apparating pass the fence two chapters ago. You can't always rely on magic.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP or Hunter's Way. Each belongs J.K. Rowling and Gerri Hill, respectively. Also, this story contain's femslash. Don't like? Don't read.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter TEN: The Day After<strong>

"Well, well, hero for the day," Black said as he walked over to Alexandra and patted her on the shoulder. "Good job, Slytherin."

"Thanks, Black. All in a day's work," she said lightly with a smile.

"You look great on the news, all wet with your hair slicked back," he continued, taking his usual perch on the corner of her desk, making sure to stay far away from Joan's desk.

"I didn't think you noticed things like that, Black."

He stood up quickly, as if she had just burned him with an _Incendio_ charm. "I told you, I'm not gay! I don't know where you got that idea from, but it better stop here."

She only smiled at him and nodded.

Brian Markovsky walked over then, sticking out his hand and shaking Alexandra's.

"You guys were great," he said. "Good plug for DDMLE Homicide. Can't believe Benson did that."

"Well, CIU was acting like they busted the whole thing on their own," Alexandra remarked. She actually couldn't believe it either. When the border news crews asked how long she and Joan had been with CIU, Joan just laughed out, "We're with Homicide, not CIU. They were too busy to check out this dead-end lead, so they had us run out here. Hell of a dead end, huh?"

"You should've heard Holland when he was telling the story. _'Tell Shaklebolt to send the troops. Oh fuck!'_" Markovsky said with a laugh, mimicking Joan.

Alexandra laughed as well. That was only the beginning of their ordeal.

"Where is Benson today, anyway?" she asked.

"Haven't seen her."

"It's nine-thirty," Alexandra said. "She's always here before me."

Markovsky shrugged. "She's probably out working already." Then he handed her something warm wrapped in foil. He laid an identical one on Joan's desk. "My mother made these. Joan loves them. Chorizo and eggs, extra chorizo for Joan."

"Thanks, Brian. That was sweet of you." She unwrapped hers, finding a warm tortilla rolled inside, bulging with eggs and chorizo. She took a bite and moaned. Wonderful.

* * *

><p>It was another half hour before Joan walked in, looking like she'd hardly slept at all. She walked past Alexandra's desk and headed straight for the coffee.<p>

"Are you okay?" Alexandra asked when Joan returned.

"Just peachy," she said, sipping from the hot liquid. She looked at the foil on her desk and grinned. Brian's mother had no doubt cooked for her again.

"Where have you been?"

Joan raised her eyebrows.

"What? I can't ask that? I would think that after yesterday, I could ask anything I damn well pleased."

Joan grinned. "That's what you think, huh?"

"Yes, that's what I think."

"Okay, fair enough. I was at my boat. I overslept," she said.

"Why don't I believe you?" Alexandra lowered her voice. "You look like you hardly slept at all, Joan."

"Oh, but I did. I went to my apartment first. There was nothing there but a couple bottles of firewhiskey and a bottle of bourbon. About midnight, I went out and got something to eat, then drove to my boat. I fell asleep about four. Got caught in traffic coming in."

Alexandra started at her. Four? She was sleep by ten. She was about to comment when the Lieutenant called for them.

"You two want to come in here?"

Joan sighed, then pushed away from her desk. She was used to existing on only a few hours' sleep each night but for some reason, she couldn't seem to shake it this morning. Maybe she was loosing energy with the full moon coming?

Joan shook her head at the thought; it had never happened before, not to this extent. She sighed before getting up and heading into Shaklebolt's office.

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><p>"Well, you had quite the day, Detectives," she said. "Congratulations. You've both made the department proud."<p>

They looked at him, saying nothing.

"Border Realm CIU's got their panties in a wad, though. Press from both sides ate up your interview last night, Benson."

She shrugged in response.

"I just wanted to tell you that you did a good job. Glad you both made it back in one piece." He looked from Benson to Slytherin, then back. Alexandra looked rested. Joan looked like something a Hungarian Horntail chewed up and spit back out. "I guess it's back to your Jane Doe. The lab called this morning, Benson. Holland has info. They found matching fibers."

"Great. We'll check it out."

They got up to leave, but Shaklebolt called Joan back.

"Benson…a word?"

Alexandra glanced at them both, before shutting the door behind her. Joan sat down waiting.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, Lieutenant. Tired, but fine. Guess the full moon's getting to me."

He nodded, though he didn't really believe the last part. If anything, Joan was a live wire waiting to snap when it came close to the full moon. "How are things going with Slytherin?"

"Fine."

"Think it might work out?"

She nodded, then grinned. "She's lasted longer than I thought she would. Makes me think it might work out. She was a real trooper out there yesterday. Only threatened to shoot and hex me a couple of times."

"Go easy on this one, Benson. She could be good for you, _both_ of you," Shaklebolt said, stressing the _both_ in reference to Joan and her furry little problem.

Joan smirked. "I think you may be right."

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><p>"How do you feel about letting me work out with you?" Alexandra asked as the drove to Central.<p>

"In the gym?"

"I realized yesterday that my upper body strength is a little lacking," she admitted.

"Maybe. But it'll cut into your time. I usually work out later in the evening, but we can arrange to go right after work a few days a week." Joan glanced at her quickly. "Don't you want to check with your boyfriend first?"

"Why would I need to do that?"

"Like I said, it'll cut into your time."

"Noted, but it's my time, not his."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Alexandra heard them echoing in her brain. Blaise would be upset. Not mad. He didn't get mad. But it would take away from their time together, and lately, that time had been stretched thin. Well, he would understand. Her job was important to her, just as it was to him. He had late nights, too. She always understood when he had a meeting after hours or had a case to prepare. She didn't complain. He would be just as understanding.

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><p>"Three nights as week? But Alexandra, we hardly see each other as it is. And look at you. I hardly think you need to go to the gym," he said.<p>

"I could barely climb that fence, Blaise. Yes, I need to go to the gym. I'm not in great shape."

"I beg to differ. I think you have great shape."

She smiled at him and handed him his plate.

"Thank you, but you know what I mean."

"Well, hopefully, you'll be Apparating past fences instead of climbing over them. Don't you think you're overreacting?"

They sat across from each other at her small table and she watch silently as he poured wine. Was she overreacting? It was just that Joan was in such good shape. Alexandra didn't want to hold her back, didn't want Joan to feel like she had to help her over and through obstacles if they arose. Alexandra should be able to keep up. There was a risk that using magic might just get them killed in a situation. She couldn't always rely on it. And besides, if they worked out together, it would give her more time with her partner. More time to get to know her. Alexandra suspected the Joan Benson everyone knew was nothing like the Joan Benson she had glimpsed in the tunnel. Joan had never lost her cool, had never gotten impatient with Alexandra. In fact, she had been teasing, acting as if it were all a dream. Perhaps that's why Alexandra hadn't really felt as though they were in danger. Joan had simply taken charge and gotten them out there. It had been fun.

And Alexandra wanted more of it.

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><p><strong>Chapter TEN is done. Again, sorry for the delay, but with my moving and everything, everything's getting to be a bit hectic. And seeing as how I've sliced my finger open, the chapters might be coming even slower. -Dodges flying produce- Sorry!<strong>

**Review, please.**

**-The Way of the Dream**


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Yes, I'm still alive, and no, this story isn't dead. I'm sorry about not having updated in so long. School's just started up for me and the teachers have no sympathy. I've been swamped with homework -scowls- That, coupled with the fact that I've just moved and just had internet installed, means that my updates are going to be as slow as ever. -Dodges flying produce- Besides, I also just got my finger back in working order. I'm planning on joining my school's sports teams (wrestling in the fall, track and field in the spring) later this year, assuming I get cleared by the doctors. So yeah, sorry. Anyhow, enjoy the story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hunter's Way. Each belong to either JK Rowling or Gerri Hill. This story contains femslash. If you don't like, I advise you fine another story.**

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><p><strong>Chapter ELEVEN: The Work Out<strong>

"You're killing me," Alexandra complained as she attempted to lift the weights one more time.

"Two more."

"Two? You said one."

"I lied."

Alexandra pushed up, straining. Was this really her idea? What on earth had she been thinking? She took a deep breath, finally pushing the weights over her head.

"Great," Joan said, taking the bar from Alex like it was no problem at all. "Now, leg press."

Alexandra stood up, shaking her arms at her sides.

"You'd better hope I don't have to draw my weapon or my wand tomorrow," she said.

"Why would that be?"

"Because I doubt I'll be able to lift my arms."

"Tomorrow will be fine. It'll be the next day that you have to worry about. Besides, it's nothing that a long, hot shower or a bathtub full of ice won't be able to fix," Joan said casually, causing Alexandra to stare at her in disbelief. She walked over to the leg press and pointed. "Sit."

Alexandra did as she was told, lying back and bending her knees, resting her feet against the plate. She watched as Joan adjusted the weight, silently praying that she didn't set it too high.

"Try that."

She did. It only moved a few inches. Joan lightened it and Alex tried again. This time, she was able to extend her legs. With effort.

"Great. Now ten more."

"Why don't I believe that number?" Alex growled out as she pushed down on the plate.

Joan watched, surprised at how well defined the thigh muscles were. She reached out a hand and touched Alex's leg lightly, feeling and tracing the muscles that moved under her hand.

"You jog?" she asked.

Alex was conscious of the hand that rested against her thigh as she breathed hard to finish the set. "Used to, along with horse riding and broom riding. Played quidditch in school. But I haven't in a couple of years. I make do with a stationary bike now."

"Better than nothing. Your legs look like they're in good shape."

"Thanks." For some reason, that made her feel better. Then she leaned up. "Why aren't you working out?"

Joan shrugged. "I'll do it later tonight. I promised I'd help you," she said.

"Can't we do both? I hate that you're just standing around here and watching me."

Joan raised her eyebrows. "Could be worse," she teased. "I could be stuck watching Black or somebody else." She grinned. "Besides, if I didn't watch you, how could I be sure you were working?"

Alexandra grinned. She loved it when Joan was relaxed and teasing. "Why don't you work out now with me? Then I'll treat you to dinner," Alex offered.

"Dinner?"

"Yes. I doubt you'll take the time to eat later if you're planning on working out later. Come on, we'll get that thing muggles call a "burger" or something."

Joan stared. She hadn't been asked out to dinner in so long, seeing as how so few people desired her company; she hardly knew how to respond. Who knew? Apparently, Alex liked her. So she nodded, not knowing what else to say or do.

Alexandra flashed her a smile and reached out and squeezed her hand.

"Thanks," she said warmly.

"Just because you're buying me dinner, Alex, doesn't mean that you're getting off lightly," Joan said. She took the machine next to Alex. Leg curls. She stretched out on her stomach and hooked her ankles beneath the bar. She closed her eyes and took a breath, then curled her legs behind her in a steady rhythm, counting silently under her breath.

Alexandra stared at the legs stretched out beside her, calf muscles bulging with each repetition. She looked to her own thin legs, wondering if she'd ever have that much definition.

"Come on, Alex. Another set," Joan said beside her, without taking her eyes off the ground.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled.

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><p>They moved through the various weight machines, Joan helping Alex reacquaint herself with them. It had been years since she'd been a gym. She actually felt invigorated by the exercise, almost as if she was in the middle of a quidditch game. She followed Joan's instructions, not at all self-conscious as she struggled through some of the weights. But later, the shyness overtook her in the locker room as she undressed only a few lockers away from Joan. Joan, apparently, didn't have a shy bone in her body. She stripped naked where she stood, promptly walking to she shower.<p>

"Sweet Merlin," Alex breathed as she watched Joan walk away. Despite the many scars that littered Joan's body, the woman was a goddess, sculpted head to toe. She looked down at her own body, still clad in a sports bra and shorts. She certainly wasn't embarrassed by her body. In fact, Blaise had mentioned on numerous occasions that she had a wonderful body. It just wasn't as defined as Joan's. Well, that's why she was here, she told herself. She slipped off her bra and shorts and grabbed a towel, walking quickly into a shower stall.

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><p>Joan was already dressed when she walked out. She was bending over, tying her boots. She glanced once at Alexandra, then away. Had Alexandra bothered to cast a glance at Joan's face, she would've seen a light pink blush staining Joan's cheeks.<p>

Joan cleared her throat. "I'll wait outside for you," she said.

"Okay, I'll be just a sec," Alexandra replied.

She dropped her towel as soon as Joan left, dressing quickly. She pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt, ran a brush through her damp hair, casting a drying spell once she was done and shoved everything into her gym bag, shrinking the gym bag. She found Joan sitting on a weight bench, scribbling in a miniature notebook when a she walked out.

"Better?" Joan asked, putting her notebook away once she had noticed Alexandra's approach.

Alexandra smiled. "I feel great. Thank you."

Joan stood and shoved her hands in her pockets, waiting.

"How about Albert's over on Peral, the muggle side?" Alex asked. "It's casual enough."

"Sure. I'll meet you there." And with that, Joan _disapperated._

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><p>Alexandra was conscious of the winds that whipped against the car as she drove. She couldn't help but wonder if Joan was among them and she looked up several times in her mirror. She was nervous and she couldn't imagine why. Maybe because she hadn't told Blaise. Then she glanced at her cell phone, which was off. She could call him, but she doubted it would be a short conversation. No, she would talk to him afterwards.<p>

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><p>Joan arrived several moments before Alexandra, appearing in an alleyway. She glanced out, and when it was clear, walked over to the busy restaurant.<p>

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><p>Albert's was crowded for a weeknight and they had to sit at the bar until a table opened. Alexandra ordered a beer and Joan ordered a glass of water, and then rested their arms casually on the bar top.<p>

"Oh Merlin, this is so good," Alex said after the first long drink.

Joan nodded, taking a swig of her glass of water.

"You don't drink?" Alex asked, when she had noticed Joan's choice of drink.

"I prefer to keep my wits about me on this side and after a workout," she said with a shrug.

Alexandra nodded. "Speaking of workout, thanks for doing this. The workout and dinner," Alex said. "I really want us to be friends, Joan. I think it'll make it so much easier to work together."

"Is that right?"

"Yes." Alexandra leaned her elbows and looked at Joan. "You have to admit, this is much better than arguing and bickering or just plain not talking. Right?"

Joan was silent for several moments, before giving a small smile and nodding.

"I'm serious. You know, you scared the hell out of me that first week, you know."

"Did I?" Joan shrugged. "I don't know why. I was just being…me."

"Were you?" Alex asked. "Who are you being now?"

Joan flicked her gaze at Alex, her eyes darkening slightly at the question. She took a large swig of her water, draining half the glass in one swallow.

"It was like you wanted so badly for me _not _to like you," Alex continued. "It can't for the life of me figure out why."

"No one likes me, Alex."

"I like you."

"Why?"

Alexandra shrugged, and then smiled.

"Is it safe to tell you that I had more fun with you the other day than I've had in my whole life?"

"In the tunnel?" Joan asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah. The tunnel."

"Fun? You threatened to hex _and _shoot me several times," Joan reminded her.

"Oh, I know. At the time, it seemed like a good idea," Alexandra said with a laugh. "In fact, when I think about the water, I imagine it being a pretty aqua blue! Most likely, it was the colour of coffee."

"Most likely."

"I mean, we're being chased and shot and then you tried to drown me. Then there was the man-eating rat. Not to mention the thirty-foot drop down the creek."

"Don't forget the explosion."

Alexandra laughed. "Yes. The only good thing is I'm not allergic to poison ivy."

It was Joan's turn to laugh. "I don't think you were there long enough to find out, Lady Slytherin. You should've seen your face as you falling, though."

"You should've seen your face when disarmed you and dunked you under the water," Alex shot back.

Joan smiled and nodded. Yes, it had been fun. Sure, they could've been killed, but it was fun. And she couldn't remember the last time she'd had fun.

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><p><strong>Chapter ELEVEN is done. Again, sorry it's been so long, but I'm really busy. With everything that's going on, updates are going to be incredibly slow. -Dodges a flying book- Sorry!<strong>

**Please Review.**

**-The Way of the Dream**


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